Nobody Wants to be the Last One There
by onlyyoujarly
Summary: Julian and Brooke. Together, they are a vision straight out of a blockbuster. Nathan and Peyton. Together, they will more than likely be lost at sea, but apart they'll drown. Sometimes, though mirages are mistaken for visions, and life jackets aren't always enough to keep you afloat during a hurricane. JB NP CS endgame New Summary. :)
1. Jabby and Bumblee

**_So, every writer has that one epic story that is over a hundred chapters, that took them forever to finish, well, I'm hoping this one can be mine. I thought about it and it didn't take me long to decide that if I was going to do this, that it had to be Brulian, of course. Most of the characters will be involved in some way. Nathan, Peyton, Haley, and Lucas will all be major influences in the story, as well as Neyton as a couple. I haven't decided on any other couples just yet. Also Rachel and Alex are very, very minor characters, so far._**

**_All mistakes in this chapter are mine. It is unedited, unfortunately. I don't have a beta, never have. After spending three hours writing it, I was uber excited about sharing it with you guys. I hope any spelling or grammar mistakes don't turn you off too much, hopefully there aren't too many of them. I tried to go back over it as I wrote it. Anyway, remember reviews spur me on! And favorites and follows are appreciated too. Happy reading. Hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it._**

**_This story, as well as my Bake one will be my main focus for the next few weeks, months, not sure._**

Part 1

He is mesmerized by her, her eyes twinkling as she skips down the hall, a short lavender and baby blue skirt swishing around her thighs with every movement, her best friend begrudgingly following behind. To put it simply, she is beautiful, breathtaking, gorgeous. And it is obvious and that every guy in a 100 foot radius thinks the same thing.

His best friend, Haley James, thumps him on the back of the head, effectively averting his attention to her. He attempts to glare at her, but fails to do so when he sees the heart warming smile on her face.

"Seriously Julian, are you really going to spend another year pining over that…that airhead?"

He shrugs simply and proceeds to open his locker, his gaze wondering back over to their current topic, only to find her gone. His eyes return to his female best friend and she rolls her eyes.

"You're just as bad as Luke, ya know that?"

Julian, repeating her earlier action, rolls his eyes, a grin set firmly on his face the entire time. His petite friend shoves him playfully, and he sidesteps away from her, avoiding any other abuse she may inflict.

"I am nowhere near bad as him…" Julian disagrees, not at all liking the accusation.

Haley snorts, but before their conversation can continue Lucas joins them, his eyes narrow, expressive pensive as always.

"Luke, what's got you so serious?"

Julian gives her a look that says 'are you serious?', but she ignores it. Lucas is always serious. Always sulking about something. But, that's okay. He's apart of their little group, his family. And Julian wouldn't have it any other way.

"Whitey wants me to join the team." His blue eyes rise from the floor and flicker between Julian and Haley. They are vulnerable and conflicted.

Haley looks up to Julian, her eyes begging him to say something, anything. But, he remains silent.

"Well, what do you want, Luke?" The girl asks.

The blond shrugs. "I just want to play the game. I don't care where."

"Do you just want to play the game, or do you want to LIVE the game?" Julian speaks up, his voice surprising both of his friends.

Lucas' eyebrows knit together in confusing, and Julian refrains from shaking him. They both know the blond knows what he means, and that the basketball player is just scared.

"What do you mean?" But the question is voiced anyway.

"I mean, it all comes down to how much you love basketball, how big of a part of you it really is."

Haley's brown orbs are looking between her male friends, wide and anxious, hoping that a confrontation is not about to break out. Because, while the two men were best friends, and it was obvious they cared deeply for each other, they still had their problems, ones the two of them only seemed to know.

Lucas simply nods. "Alright."

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Brooke Davis desperately fights sleep, her eyelids slipping closed every once in a while as the math teacher droned on and on about inputs and outputs.

She is awoken by a sharp stab in the back. She whips around, her eyes narrowed in a glare. Nathan is wearing a smirk, his blue eyes dancing with mischief.

"What the hell, Scott?"

"Pay attention, Davis. You heard what Whitey said, one F and you're off the cheer squad, miss captain."

"That squad wouldn't know what to do without me," she shoots back.

"Miss Davis, Mr. Scott. Detention." Mrs. Parker's voice is firm and matter of fact. Yet, Brooke lets out a small whine.

"But, Mrs. Parker the first cheer practice is tonight, and well, I really, really have to be there, or that skank will take over MY squad. Plus, Nathan, here he's the one who poked me!"

Nathan sneers, and speaks up. "It's not like you haven't been poked with bigger things in various other places."

Brooke spins around in her seat, her hazel eyes fiery and angry, but then her face crumbles, and Julian has a front row seat from his spot in the middle row.

"Leave her alone." It comes out low, but angry and menacing just the same.

Nathan turns towards him, searching the room for the source of the sound. Then his eyes land on him, and Julian meets his stare head on.

"What did you say?" The dark-haired boy stands from his seat.

Julian does the same. "I said, leave her alone."

He risks a glance over at Brooke, who is looking at him in wonder. And in that split second that his attention is diverted, he is punched in the gut. But, Julian quickly returns the hit, and leaves his own mark on Nathan's face, splitting his lip and then making what will later be a black eye.

But, the fight doesn't end there, desks are knocked over, and students hurry from their seats with shrieks and gasps. Then, Brooke is there, in front of him, her eyes soft and his fist stops mid-swing. But, Nathan seems to not have noticed in his fit of anger and his fist connects with the side of her face, and she screams out her best friend's boyfriend's name.

Nathan freezes, and something in the boy changes, he looks at Brooke, and his hands start to shake. Brooke's hand moves from it's spot where it was holding her bruised cheek, and she is reaching for the blue-eyed boy.

"Natey, you didn't mean to. It's okay." Her voice is soothing, but it does nothing for the tears gathering in his eyes. And Julian suddenly sees the other man as human.

He shakes his head, and mouths the word 'never', before hurrying out of the room.

"Julian, I am so disappointed in you. I expect this kind of thing out of Nathan and Brooke, but not you." are the first words out of one of the male teacher's mouth that Mrs. Parker had fetched. "Go to the principle's office."

Brooke hangs her head at the teacher's words. The teacher turns to Brooke, seemingly having just noticed her. "You too, Miss Davis."

Mrs. Parker halts the young woman, and Julian stops in the hallway, just outside the door as well. "Brooke."

"Yeah."

"Forget about detention." The teacher's voice is gentle and loving, and the smile Julian loves so much shows itself just a bit, but not quite.

The dimple-smiled girl turns around, and nearly runs right into him. Her hazel eyes look into his for a moment, and then she is hurrying down the hallway.

"Where are you going?" He asks, stupidly.

She glances over her shoulder, without stopping. "To the principle's office."

He can't help but notice the difference in her step, and the slight slump in her shoulders, but her head is still held high.

"Oh, yeah." His voice is low, and he hangs his head.

Since he is looking down at his feet, he doesn't notice when she stops, and nearly knocks her over. He snaps his head up, his arms coming up to balance her.

"I just wanted to say thanks," she says, and her voice is genuine, her eyes soft.

If someone had told him yesterday that he would have his body plastered to Brooke Davis', the girl of his dreams, he would have punched them for mocking him. But, here he is, and here she is, and he is completely fucking speechless.

She chuckles quietly, and he stiffens because he thinks she's making fun of him. But, then her slim fingers are running through his hair, and he relaxes or maybe he tenses even more, he doesn't know. All he can concentrate on is her hand in his hair.

"I like your hair," she compliments, her voice raspy, as always. But, right now, it sounds sexier than it normally does, even though there is no change in it's tone.

"I hate it," he blurts out, and she frowns.

"Ya know its rude to disregard someone's compliment. Especially a pretty girl's."

They stay like that, neither one of them making any move to separate their bodies. Her fingers continue their massage on his scalp, even as her frown remains on her flawless face. He clears his throat, lacking ideas of anything else to say. Not that, that would really count as talking.

"Don't you think I'm pretty?" She questions, her voice low and oh so sexy.

"Of course I do," he answers.

She steps away, taking her touch with her.

"That compliment doesn't count," she says, walking again, not giving him time to get his head together.

He, reflexively, goes on the defense. "Why, because it came from me?"

She turns around so she is walking backwards, and even though he doesn't want to, he is worried that she might hurt herself.

"No, because I practically had to pry it out of you."

He wants so badly to tell her how beautiful she is, how since eight grade she has been the main star in his every fantasy. But, when he opens his mouth, words fail him. She tilts her head to the side adorably, and it reminds him of a puppy. And he realizes he must look like a fish with his gaping mouth, and quickly closes it. She seems disappointed, and he just about to say something, anything to take away that look when they reach their destination.

They both take a seat in the little waiting area after informing the security of the presence. Brooke suddenly looks sad, and to anyone else it would be easily overlooked, but Julian has spent enough time watching her to know her every emotion. It only takes a few moments before he is being called back to see Mr. Turner.

Julian already knows his mom isn't going to care about his 'little confrontation', as Mr. Turner put it, but the principle calls her anyway to inform the woman of his expulsion. Not suspension. Expulsion. And Julian immediately knows that Dan Scott has pulled some strings to have this done.

The authority figure looks apologetic, as he informs him to gather his personal belonging from his locker, and to tell Miss. Davis to do the same. He wants to ask why Mr. Turner won't talk to her or if he has even called her parents, but decides its not any of his business.

When he exit's the office and spots Brooke in the chair, she is the same exact position as before. Legs crossed, and examining her nails as if they are going to change drastically any minute.

"Brooke," he says, effectively catching her attention, as she looks up at him. "We're both expelled."

Her mouth forms an 'O', and she is on her feet and in front of him before he can utter a word. "I am so sorry, Julian. This is all my fault."

She is talking, babbling even, but all he can concentrate on is the fact that she said his name. His name actually left the perfect lips of Brooke Davis. Then her grunt of frustration brings his attentions back to her.

"You're not even paying attention to me, are you Juju?" She accuses, her eyes sparkling with anger.

He shrugs, helplessly. "Sorry."

Something about his apology must have made her happy, because her dimples are out in full force, and she is dragging him out of the fronts doors of the school by his hand.

They stop, well she stops, and he does because she has been controlling their movement and direction the entire time.

"Please tell me you drove to school!" She pleads, her eyes are hopeful, and he can tell she is barely containing her childish excitement.

He really doesn't want her to see his old truck, even though he is proud of it. After his father had left, Julian had sold the mustang his dad bought him, and with the help of Lucas and Keith fixed up his Dodge truck. His mom has offered, numerous times, to buy him a new car, or more like demanded, insisting that it was embarrassing to have her son driving such junk, but he declines ever time.

Her face falls at his lack of response. "You didn't, did you?"

Sighing, he retrieving his keys from his jean pocket, and she lets out a shriek and rocks back and forth, from the heels of her feet, to the tips of her toes. She does her little happy clap, clasping onto his forearm with both hands and beginning to drag him towards the parking lot.

"Come on Juju, we gotta go. Like, now!"

He chuckles, and allows her to drag him. "Um, Brooke, do you even know which vehicle is mine?"

She bits her bottom lip, looks up at him, and shakes her head. "Which one is it?" She asks, or more like demands.

He rolls his eyes, and she glares at him.

"That one," he replies, pointing towards the old, temporarily muddy truck.

Her eyes widen, and he panics. She hates it, he just knows it.

"You like mudding. I've never been. Can we go? And it's perfect right now. I mean, it just rained yesterday. Oh, wow. This is perfect!"

She skips over to the passenger door and attempts to open it, and then groans, clearly impatient.

"Julian, unlock it," she whines.

He stands there, dumbfounded, shocked by her reaction by his muddy truck.

Hands on her slender hips, she comes up with a new nickname for him, one he isn't sure he likes. "Come on, fun sucker. It's time to go!"

But, the smile playing on her lips makes it obvious its all in good fun. Before long both doors are unlocked, and he helps her into the big wheeled, four door truck. He inserts the keys into the ignition and starts it, but takes a moment to watch as her manicured nails run along the dash board.

She doesn't belong in this car. She doesn't look right in it. But, then she turns to him, smiling, a real, true, patented Brooke Davis smile and changes his mind, almost.

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Peyton Sawyer studies her boyfriend, worriedly. His face is bruised, but that's not what has her worried. He's been in plenty of fights and has always come out on top, but is always left with a little damage. There's something off about him. And it becomes painfully obvious when he comes up to her locker and actually folds her in his arms, kissing the top of her head.

"I love you, Pey," he whispers.

The words make her hold on his waist tighten. His feelings for her were known, but not often spoken, or shown especially recently. But, it was moments like this, when she is reminded why she hangs on to their bent and frayed relationship, because even if it is damaged, it's not broken, not yet. And she's gonna hang on for dear life until the last string holding them together breaks.

"I love you, too Nate."

He shakes his head, and she feels the movement against the top of her head. She becomes desperate, a feeling she hates, when he pulls away. His rough hands cup her face, and he kisses her, gently and it lingers.

"No, you don't. You can't. I won't let you."

And because they are the middle of the hallway, with people staring at them, she allows him the walk away. She knows he'll come back, he always does. This is just another one of their fights. Right? No, it's not. She's not that stupid. She knows her boyfriend, the real him, and just now, he is hurting, worse than she's ever seen. And she will always regret having not gone after him. She already knows that.

And there's not going to be any mind blowing make up sex after practice tonight, or her hanging up on him after one of his half-ass apologies. She wishes, just once, that he would let her in. That she would let him in.

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After not hearing or seeing Julian since first period, Haley is becoming worried. It's halfway through lunch, and Lucas has his nose in a book, while she searches the cafeteria for her other best friend. Giving up, she pulls out her cell phone and dials his number.

After the eighth ring, his voice intrudes her ears, it's breathless. Her eyes narrow, her thoughts suspicious, her eyes just happening to glance over to the cheer table and noticing a lack of a certain cheerleader.

"Hey Hales, what's going on?" He sounds so innocent that she wants to pull his hair out.

"I don't know, you tell me. You're the one who's not at school."

"Oh um, about that. I got expelled." His voice is kinda nervous, but only for a second, because soon he is laughing, and there is most certainly a female laugh mingling with his. "Look, Haley, it's not what you think. It was for a just cause, okay? Just, I'll explain everything later. Love you." Then the line was dead.

Lucas has looked up from book some time during her phone conversation, and his eyes are concerned.

"Is Julian okay?" He asks.

She nods, dumbly. "He sure sounded okay to me."

Lucas reaches across the table, his warm hand covering hers, settling her shaking hand.

"Are you okay?"

"No. Yes. I mean. I don't know." Frustrated, she runs her hands through her light brown hair. "I just, I really care about him. And she, she's gonna hurt him. I know it."

"How do you know?"

She studies the table clothe that covers the picnic. "I just do…"

"Is it, maybe, because she's not you." It isn't a question, and that angers Haley beyond comprehension.

She is about to retort, but he says something before she can. "Just tell him how you feel, Hales. It's okay."

She frowns. "It's not that simple."

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He is completely doused in mud, as is Brooke. He isn't quite sure how they ended up in the lake, half naked. But, he doesn't mind, at all. Her face is pensive, and she appears deep in thought.

"Who was that? Your girlfriend?"

He shakes his head. "No, just Haley, my best friend."

"Haley James," she questions, and he is surprised that she knows Haley's full name.

"Um, yeah."

Her small hand tucks a wet hair behind her ear, even though there isn't one there.

"She doesn't like me." And for some reason he can tell that seems to bother her.

He wades over to her, closing the space between them. "Yeah, she does," he assures her, even though it's a lie.

She smiles, slightly. "You're not a very good liar, Jabby."

"Jabby? Where'd that one come from?"

She smiles, full fledge this time. "Well, I looked you up on face book, and your middle name is Andrew…so Julian Andrew Baker…Jab…Jabby."

"I am convinced now, more than ever, that smart phones are evil," he states, his fingers trailing up her bare sides, before he begins to tickle her.

She squeals, wiggling around, trying to escape his hold on her. "Jabby, stop!" She orders, giggling and squirming.

"Nope, Bumblebee."

"No more Jabby," he reasons.

"Okay, okay…I give..I give." As soon as she is free of him, she is hurrying to dry ground, and yelling "jabby" over her shoulder.

He hurries after her, grabs her around the waist, and spins her around. He loses his footing and they both end up in the sand, him on his back with his arm out, her on top of said arm, face down, though her face is turned towards him.

They are both laughing, though it is slowly coming to a stop, turning into an occasional chuckle and giggle here and there. They lay in silence for a while.

"Jabby…"

"Yeah, Bumblebee?"

"You're amazing."

He remains silent, because he isn't sure how to respond to such a heartfelt compliment coming from a girl as beautiful as her.

"I don't want this to be a one time thing, Jabby. I wanna, ya know, be friends." She sounds nervous, but that must be his imagination.

He looks over at her, to find that she is already looking at him, her face resting in the palm of her hands. He nods, and she smiles.

"Why didn't Mr. Turner call your mom?" The question hangs in the air for a long while, and she is tense.

It isn't long, though, before her smile is plastered back on her face. "She wouldn't care. She probably wouldn't even answer the phone," she explains, with a casual shrug, but he knows, that down deep she cares, even if she acts as though she doesn't.

"They called my mom, and she answered. But, she didn't care," he offers.

"Julian Andrew Baker, you are one amazing man," she whispers, and there is something about this moment, so intimate, and he never wants it to end. "What you did for me today, defending me, no one has ever done that for me. Not even Nathan." She chuckles bitterly. "Hell, you were defending me to Nathan." She smiles sadly. "It wasn't always like that, ya know, with Natey."

He notices the use of the nickname she had used earlier that day, and waits for her continue, curious about her story with the basketball player. But, she doesn't speak after that. Not for a while anyway.

"Even though Nathan is the one Dan claims, Lucas has it better, trust me." She sits up, and begins to play with the mud clumped sand and dirt around her.

Julian frowns. "Yeah."

"Nobody's life is simple." Her voice is sad. "Perfect."

He sits up, and takes her hand in his. "Come on, school is over by now, I'm sure."

He stands and urges her to do the same by tugging gently on her hand. She looks up him, questionably.

"I want you to meet someone."

She smiles. "I think I should probably get dressed first," she informs him.

He chuckles. "I think you should, too."

After dressing himself, he watches, amused, as she struggles to pull up her soaked skirt. She looks when he chuckles, a pout set firmly on her lips. Eventually, she manages to get it up and over her hips, and they are on their way to their destination.

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Haley busies herself wiping down the counter, the lack of customers leaving her with nothing to do. Then, as if mocking her for wishing for customers, Julian enters with, none other than Brooke Davis. Her eyes narrow, and her shoulders tense when Brooke smacks at Julian's arm, giggling at something he said.

The cheerleader doesn't laugh obnoxiously like she does, Brooke's laugh is like a melody that carries across the room. Or at least until, the girl starts to gasp for air, and begins to 'hehehehehe.'

The couple take a seat at a booth, across from each other. Both of them are covered in mud, from head to toe. The brunette says something to Haley's best friend, and he blushes, and Haley clenches her fists.

"Are you okay?" Karen's voice comes out of nowhere.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. I'm just gonna go wait on them…"

Plastering on her best fake smile, she walks over to the table, and clears her throat to attract their attention. Brooke's hazel eyes land on her and she smiles widely.

"Hey, Haley. I'm Brooke Davis." Her voice is friendly. And hopeful?

Haley just nods in respond, and Brooke's smile falters, and Julian glares at her. Not at Brooke, but at her, as in Haley. Her. And it hurts, so badly, to be on the end of the look she's seen him give many others who have hurt her in the past.

"I…um…can I have a vanilla root beer?" Brooke asks, and Haley studies the girl closely, surprised that the cheer captain actually requested something, and didn't demand it.

She nods, but this time she adds words to it. "Yeah, sure."

"Jules?" Haley asks.

"Coke." His answer is curt and it stings.

When Haley turns to leave, she pauses just long enough to hear Brooke say, "Jabby, why were you so rude to Haley?" Her voice is scolding.

Guilt starts in her gut and spreads throughout her, swallowing her up with it's intense, unpleasant feeling. She hurries away before she can hear Julian's response.

Brooke's phone rings, a ridiculous pop song practically blaring, before she answers.

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_"Hey, P. Sawyer."_

"B. Davis, where are you? Practice started fifteen minutes ago?" Peyton asks. It was like Brooke to be late, but not for anything cheerleading related.

_"Umm, yeah, about that. I got expelled."_

Peyton can't stop the sob from escaping, but thankfully it's silent. "Oh, well. I'll guess I'll see ya later?"

_"Of course, P? What's wrong?"_

"Um…nothing. Nathan is just acting weird, but you know him. He's probably just in one of his moods."

The line was silent for a moment. _"Yeah.."_

"Well, I gotta go B. Davis. Practice is about to start. Love you."

_"I love you, too. P. Sawyer."_

After the call ends, Peyton throws her phone over with the rest of her stuff, the device landing perfectly on her book bag. When she turns around her eyes connect with a pair of blue ones she knows so well. She attempts a pathetic smile, and its temporarily returned, at least until the other Scott boy enters the gym.

Everything freezes, literally, as everyone in the coliseum stops to watch Lucas walk through the door, as if he is some mythical creature. Then, as if everyone in the room is all one being, all eyes turn to Nathan, waiting for his reaction. The dark-haired boy just shakes his head, eyes turning to her, searching for something, and whatever it is, he seems to find what he needs, because he smiles. The look leaves her breathless.

A couple new girls, a red head who is very well endowed in the chest area, and a brunette who is practically skin and bone both announce themselves as captain. Peyton doesn't recognize either of them. She stares off into space as the two girls argue before coming to an agreement to be co-captains.

Practice is intense, not for the cheerleaders, but for their company. Despite the lack of confrontation between the Scott brothers at the beginning, its obvious that Lucas and Nathan are against each other, even though they are on the same team during the practice.

After practice, she waits for him outside the boy's locker room, wanting nothing more to take away all his problems, and take away all the demons in his eyes. But, when he exits, he glances at her, dismisses her with a wave of his hand, before continuing on.

She grabs his arm, stopping him. She feels him tense under her touch, but he doesn't attempt to escape her hold.

"Nate, talk to me, please."

"Peyton, leave me alone." His voice is cold, but her hold doesn't loosen. She knows him, and knows that he doesn't mean it. He can't. It's just not possible. Not after all they've been through.

"No." Her answer is short, stern.

He turns around so fast, she is nearly knocked off her feet, but he quickly grabs her around the waist. She touches his face, and he relaxes into her touch. She smiles softly.

"I can't be with you, Peyton. All I'm gonna do is hurt you. All I've ever done is hurt you."

"Yeah, but, we've gotten through it, and…"

"It's gotten worse, blondie. I've gotten worse."

Nathan leaves her there, stunned, tears in her eyes. Suddenly, another Scott appears in front of her, blue eyes squinted, face concerned. She glares at him, knowing that if her boyfriend-she refuses to refer to Nathan as her ex- sees her with his half-brother it'll crush him.

"What the hell do you want?" She asks, not giving him time to answer, as she walks over to the bleachers to gather her belongings.

"I just wanted to make sure you were okay. Nathan can be an ass sometimes."

She whips around, her curls hitting her in the eyes. "You don't know him, Lucas Scott." She bites out his last name. "Since we're calling names…you're friend Haley is a bitch."

Lucas' jaw clenches. "No, she isn't."

Peyton's eyebrows rise. "No? Then why does she blow off Brooke every time she tries to talk to her? Huh?"

Lucas opens his mouth to retort, but closes it.

Peyton smirks. "That's what I thought." She walks away, leaving a stunned Lucas behind.

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Brooke's phone rings again, and she receives another annoyed look from Haley. It's Peyton again, and even Julian and her are in the middle of a conversation, she signals for him to be quiet, and mouths 'Peyton.' He nods in understanding.

"Hey, P. Sawyer," she answers.

There's silence, and Brooke is just about to repeat her friend's name when a sob crosses the line.

"Peyton, are you okay?" The first sob is followed by another, then a third, before they are coming one after the other. "Honey, what's wrong? Is it Nathan? Did you guys breakup? Is it your dad? Is he okay? Pey, you have to tell me, I can't guess. Just breathe."

The sobs just continue, and Brooke's worry turns to fear. "Peyton, where are you?"

"Bridge…" The word is muffled and breathy as another sob makes it nearly impossible decipher.

"Okay, I'll be there. Just…hang on, okay. Everything is gonna be okay."

As soon as the call ends, Brooke is standing from her seat. "Julian, can you please take me to Peyton…she is really upset, and…"

He wraps an arm around her and she relaxes just a little. "Of course."

They are leaving just as Lucas is coming in. Lucas' eyes meet hers and something in them make her unsettled.

They don't talk much on the way to secret spot that Brooke and Peyton had dubbed as 'theirs' many years ago. In fact they didn't talk at all.

Not until Julian speaks up. "Haley wasn't who I wanted you to meet. I mean, ugh, I didn't expect her to react like that. But, this other person would have reacted a lot kinder, a lot more welcoming. She will, that is, if you still want to meet her."

Brooke looks over at him, and finds herself smiling. "Yeah, I'd like that."

He doesn't look at her, but he smiles at her answer. He doesn't have any problem finding the place, and is soon pulling up to the ledge under the bridge. It's around seven, nearly dark, and the truck's headlights illuminate the figure of a distraught Peyton Sawyer.

She is still in her tiny shorts, and tight tank top from cheer practice. Julian watches as Brooke hurries out of the car and to her friend. Her small arms somehow manage to wrap completely around Peyton. The blond begins to break down, and out of respect he shuts off the lights.

"Nathan broke up with me," she cries."

Brooke tightens her hold on her close friend. "Sssh, P. It's all gonna be okay." She hasn't ever seen her friend react this way to a break up before.

"No, you don't get it. Brooke, this time it's different. It's done, for good."

"He…he…he told me he loved me and then…he just…he was gone." Her voice is broken, devastated.

"He does love you, Peyton. More than anything. Did he tell you why?"

"He said he couldn't hurt me anymore. That all he ever did was hurt me…and that he had gotten worse."

"Peyton, I…" Brooke trails off, unsure of how to word what she needs to say. "There was a fight today, between Nathan and Julian, the guy I've been all day. He got pretty intense, and I tried to break it up, and when I did, Nathan accidentally hit me, but it didn't leave any bruises. Or marks. Or anything. So he must have tried to slow down, but it was just too late. So now…"

"He thinks he's gonna hurt me, physically. That he's gonna become Dan," Peyton finishes, in almost a whisper.

"Yeah," Brooke confirms.

Dan Scott has never hit Nathan, at least not recently. Not since Nathan has learned to fight back. But, the mayor of Tree Hill manages to keep control of his son in other ways, by using Deb. Dan being afraid of Nathan doesn't mean that Nathan is actually strong enough to overpower his father.

"I gotta talk to Nathan, tonight."

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Nathan is drunk off his ass. He can't see straight. He can't see anything, not even the small girl that is currently straddling him, busying herself with unbuttoning the stupid navy blue dress shirt that Brooke had bought for him. But, he can see Peyton, no matter how drunk he gets.

Every time he closes his eyes, she's there. Her green eyes and blond curls. Sometimes, she's sweaty, laying tangled in his sheets in the afterglow of an orgasm, she's mid-orgasm, she's sketching, sleeping, cheering, glaring at him, but most of the time he sees the last look she gave him, that heartbroken look.

"Nathan!" The voice of the girl he is currently trying to fuck shouts his name, and he forces himself to pay attention to her.

"What?" He growls, and it's not an aroused growl.

"I am doing all the work, you're just laying there. I feel like I'm raping you."

"Yeah, well maybe you are."

She huffs, and climbs off of him, the heal of her foot digging into his flaccid penis. He winces, but doesn't make any move other than that.

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Lucas cocks his head to the side, as Haley scrubs at one of the tables angrily. The open sign has long since been turned around, leaving just him and his best friend, and his mom, who was busy tending to something in the back.

"I just, I don't know what Julian sees in…in that…that skank," she finally gets out.

Lucas lets out a breath. He walks over to her and covers her hand with his own, halting her frantic movements. "Hales, have you considered the fact that maybe you're judgment is unfair?"

Her brown eyes narrow, but only for a short moment, and soon her shoulders are slumping in defeat. Lucas turns her around to face him, and smiles softly.

Tucking a hair behind her ear, he says, "this isn't you, Hales. You're above this."

Her eyes look up towards the ceiling thoughtfully, before focusing on him. "Yeah," she says, resigned, "what really sucks is that she's been so nice to me."

"Yeah well, Peyton isn't any kind of angel."

Haley let out a dramatic sigh of relief, before pumping her fist in the air. "Yes! Finally, one of my boys come down to earth!"

He laughs and pulls Haley against his side. "Oh, Hales. What am I going to do with you?"

"The real question is what are we gonna do with Julian?"

Lucas shrugs. "I don't know. It seems like Brooke and him might actually be building a genuine friendship."

Haley pulls away him, her mouth gaping open. "Are you serious, Luke?"

"Hales, what did we talk about?"

She glares at him.

"Look, I heard why he got expelled. Nathan was saying some nasty stuff about Brooke, and Julian stood up for her. I would have done the same thing."

"So now you're obsessed with her…" Haley's arm flap at her sides in exasperation.

"No, I just don't like it when girls are disrespected."

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After dropping Peyton and Brooke off at Peyton's, Julian decides that maybe it is best he visit Haley. He looks at the truck's clock, and concludes that she's probably still at the café.

Once he parks in front of the small family restaurant, he walks in, using his key to unlock the door. Lucas and Haley are the only two people left in the place. Not even Karen seems to there.

Haley looks up at him, and she looks hurt and accusing. Lucas excuses him and says something about having to clean the milkshake machine. Julian takes the abandoned seat across from Haley, and takes her hand. She tenses, but soon after relaxes.

"Haley, you are one of my best friends, and that is never going to change."

She smiles, but there is something about that makes him feel uneasy and concerned.

"Hales, talk to me."

"I just…everything is changing and it's only the first day of our junior year. I guess, I always thought it would be the three of us."

He nods. "Me too. But, I'm happy that's it not anymore."

She tenses beneath his touch, and immediately her hand is gone from under his.

"Come on, Haley. Just get to know her. She's not what people say she is. Bumblebee is a good person. She really wants you to like her."

"Bumblebee?" The word is full of hatred and jealousy.

Julian blushes. "It's…ugh…her nickname."

"Julian, she's….not a good person. She's mean…and judgmental," Haley insists.

He shakes his head. "It seems to me that you are the judgmental one. The mean one. All she wants is for you to like her. You really hurt her feelings tonight, Haley. This isn't you, not the Haley I know. When my best friend comes back, give me call. Until then, just, take time to think."

Haley opens her mouth, but words fail her. He leaves, slamming the door of his truck so hard, the entire vehicle shakes.


	2. Loafers, Crocs, and Blood

_**Callison- Brulian meeting in high school would have been awesome. He would have made high school a lot easier for her. **_

_**sandygirl-Like I said to Callison, Brulian in high school is awesome! **_

_**Sidney4522- Thanks so much! That means a lot. For a response to the second part of your review go to the bottom of the chapter...its a spoiler and not everyone wants to read those and its kinda hard to avoid them if they're at the top. **_

_**So here's chapter two...hope you enjoy reading it. :)**_

It is insanely late, or more like early, depending on who you are, and how you look at such things. But, that doesn't stop Julian from running his calloused fingertips over the ripped piece of paper that Brooke had left in his truck sometime during the night with her number on it. Something about her loopy manuscript makes the generic, plain blue ink exotic and vibrant. The large letters run into each other, are attached, even though they are clearly not cursive. He assumes that, like everything else about Brooke, this is unique to her.

There's a small note, meant just for him, written in much smaller letters than her name and the number. The handwritings isn't near as loopy, it's neater, and the thought that maybe she had spent extra time on it makes him feel giddy, and no matter how amazing this girl is, his reaction to such a simple thing is still embarrassing. He's grateful that he is alone, especially when he notices himself squirming around like a middle school girl.

He clears his throat and stills himself, sitting up straight in bed. The note, just like the first twenty times he has read it, says…

_Julian…Jabby_

_Call me or there will be consequences._

_Bumblebee_

It's short and sweet. More like tart. Ya know, that flavor that reigns you in with it's sweetness but you know that if you eat too much of it, you'll tongue will be suffering for it the next week, if not longer. Well, Brooke is tart. Sweet, sour, and everything in-between. And, even though he knows there is no possible way this can end well, he finds himself dialing her number. For the simple reason of she is Brooke Davis, and he is Julian Baker, and he has been obsessed with her for years. But, its more than that.

A hoarse "hello," brings a smile to his face, and diminishes all negative thoughts from his mind. "So, you found my note, huh, Jabby?" She asks, a throaty laugh following right after.

He chuckles in return. "Yeah, I did."

"Didn't take you long to call," she adds, her voice low and he can barely make out the noise of what sounds like blankets shuffling.

"Did I wake you up?" There isn't an answer for a few moments, and for some reason he is almost certain that she used some sort of head motion to answer his question. "Brooke, I can't see you, darlin. You have to use words."

She giggles, and there is definitely a nervous hint to it. "Well, um, yes, no."

"Brooke…" he scolds, jokingly.

She groans. "Uhh. Fine, yes, but don't hang up, I really do want to talk to you, Jabby."

He smiles, and its so wide that it actually hurts his facial muscles. He stays silent, and she uses it as an opportunity.

"Come pick me up, Julian. We can totally do something fun!" Her voice has risen a couple octaves and he has to pull the phone away from his ear.

"Do you not own a car, Brooke?" He asks, using her full name like she had his.

She huffs. "Yes, I do, Andy, but I don't know where you live. Which is going to change, very soon. Plus, your truck is way more awesome than my stupid VW bug thing."

His eyes narrow at the shortened version of his middle used as a first. "Well, Penny, give me ten minutes…"

"Five…"

He looks down at his boxers, and then does a once over of his messy room, trying to remember what clothes were clean and which ones weren't. He grunts in agreement.

"Okay." He is just about to end the call, when her overly sweet voice stops him.

"Don't ever call me Penny again."

"Okay. My bad, Penny…"

The last thing he hears is a high-pitched shriek of annoyance, before he hit's the end button on his blackberry. He easily finds her house again, and she is already waiting outside, her porch light shining on her. She skips over to the vehicle, and he is so caught up in watching her that he doesn't have time to go around and assist her in getting into the vehicle, but he pulls her in from his place in the driver's seat.

She is all dimples, her hair pulled back in a messy bun. Her face ceases to be covered by any make-up, therefore her freckles are viewable to his studying eyes. She appears subconscious under his intense gaze, and begins to fidget with her hair.

"I know, me, Brooke Davis, Miss Queen Bee, Head cheerleader, actually owns a pair of crocs. The ugliest shoes known to man, but hey, they are also the most comfortable shoes known to man, and the best beach shoes ever made. Which brings me to the reason for this whole thing, we are going to the beach, so you get to see me in my bikini!"

He smiles at her babble, something he has come to realize she does when she's nervous, excited, passionate, just about in every mood. He shrugs, the topic of her rant finally setting in.

"I have a pair of loafers."

The statement is simple, and he begins to drive again, but when she reaches over and takes one of his hands off the steering wheel, he realizes how much it must of meant. He looks over at her, and finds her looking out the window. The sound of a car horn has her head whipping around, her eyes widening, and her grip tightening painfully on his. He puts pressure on the brake, and stops, letting out the breath he had been holding when the car swerves around him.

She looks at him, incredulous. "You…Julian. You were just on the wrong side of the street. We could have died!" Then she laughs, and he smiles.

He shrugs, which he seems to do a lot in her presence. "I just, I was looking at you."

She looks over him, her eyebrow kinked. "Why?" And he can tell she really doesn't know the reason.

He looks away from her quickly, remembering the recent incident. He starts to shrug but stops before he can complete the action. "You're beautiful."

She is silent, completely and utterly so. Which is very strange for her. Her eyes are fixated on the scenery passing by, her bottom lip between her teeth. "It's cute when you shrug. Don't stop."

His first response is to be embarrassed that she noticed, but then he is flattered, because she did notice, and such an easily overlooked thing attracts her. He squeezes their still joined hands, and he hears her sigh in contentment.

They reach the beach, and he turns to pull into the deserted parking lot, but she stops him very effectively when she releases his hand, bounces in the seat, shakes her head, points to the left, and yells, "no, that way. I have my own spot."

He isn't sure what could possibly be different about the area they are driving to, than the one they just left. A beach is a beach. It's sand and water. But, she is smiling and practically bouncing in her seat. That's all the reason he needs. There is a difference, though. There isn't a parking lot. Therefore, they have to park a block away.

Without his consent, or his say, it seems as though it has been decided that he will be carrying Brooke to their destination when she jumps on his back. She is not a heavy girl, by no means, but when taken by surprise, and the heels of her small feet dig into his lower abs, with the combination of her tight grip on his neck, he can't breath.

But, the problem is easily fixed, when he helps support her, each of his hands grasping onto one of her thighs. Then, without a word to her, he begins to run, and she lets a scream of surprise, soon followed by a laugh.

She yells out directions every minute, apparently, this spot is in a specific place. But when she yells for him to stop, and he plops down, dropping her effectively onto her butt, he immediately realizes its significance. There's a large rock located perfectly so you can jump into the water, or just watch as the sun sets. As he studies it closer, he notices N.S. & B.D. forever engraved into the stone. His first thought is how it must have taken a lot of time and dedication to have done it, and then he realizes who the initials belong to.

It only makes him even more curious about her past with Nathan. If they, which it appears they had been, a couple, then how did the 'evil Scott brother' end up with Brooke's best friend? He wants to ask her, but he has a feeling it's too soon. He wonders if there will ever be a time she will feel comfortable around him enough to open up to him that much. Trust him that much.

He goes around the rock formation, but finds no sign of Peyton's initials paired with either Nathan's or Brooke's. Brooke calls his name, returning his attention to her, not that it ever left her. His breath catches, and he wonders if you need oxygen to live. He hopes not, because he doesn't think he's gonna breathe again anytime soon.

Her hair is loose from its bun, flowing messily down her back. She has discarded her simple t-shirt, leaving herself in nothing but a string bikini top. Some would call him a loser, considering he just saw her in her undergarments mere hours before. But, this time there isn't any mud, or joking. It's just her, stripping in front of him. And her moon kissed skin.

Her shorts start to fall down her lean legs, and he lets out a small groan, because he knows there is no way he is going to survive this. No possible way. She runs into the water, not giving him that much time to study her revealed skin. This leaves him relieved and disappointed.

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Peyton, after spending a good three hours trying to get a hold of her boyfriend, she becomes worried. She knows for a fact that Nathan isn't sleeping. At least not if their fall out had effected him as much as it did her. She springs up in bed, images of what he is probably doing in her mind. She knows how he copes. Oh God!

Just like that she is in her comet and racing to his house. Dan isn't home, but Deb is. She's passed out on the couch, obviously just having taken a pretty bad beating from her husband. Peyton winces, but forces herself to push the abused woman to the back of her mind.

Nathan, her lover, her boyfriend, her disaster, he is what she is focused on. She stands outside his room for a few moments, unsure of what to do. She doesn't hear his snoring, or any moaning. Nathan has cheated on her in the past, but she has done the same to him. They are like a demented version of Romeo and Juliet, because it was evidential for them to both die in the end, for each other.

The worst kind of deaths. The type where you give yourself over to something or someone so much that at the end of it you don't know who you are anymore. You look around, and in the middle of the catastrophe that had stolen the entirety of your soul had also taken everybody else who had ever meant anything to you. But, Nathan is worth it, and so much more.

Therefore, when she sees him laying lifelessly in his king-sized bed, vomit staining his shirt, she panics. She rushes over to him, her hands going to his face, wiping away some of the still wet vomit. She doesn't shake him, instead she whispers his name, desperately, brokenly.

She searches for her cell-phone, only to discover that she left it at home. She is near hysteria, as she searches his large room for his cell. She lets out a scream, grabbing at her un-brushed, wild curls. The same thought is repeating in her head, like a mantra 'you failed him, Peyton. Just like you failed your mom.' Even though she really doesn't want to leave him, she knows she has to get him help. So, she goes to the living room and uses the land line to call an ambulance.

She shakes her head, and if Nathan was conscious, he would call her crazy for her frantic movements. He would pull her into his arms, whisper something dirty in her ear, she would push him away pretending to be mad, he would respond with that stupid ass cocky Scott smirk, and then it would all end in laughs and kisses.

The sounds of sirens cut through the silence, and she runs outside. For once she doesn't care if strangers see her crying. There are so many paramedics. So many disapproving looks at another alcohol poisoned teenager. Peyton wants to punch them all. Deb is seen, and another ambulance is sent for her.

They start bombarding her with questions about the older woman.

"Fuck off! I don't fucking know! Let me see my boyfriend!"

The middle-aged man who is questioning her smiles softly at her. "I'm sorry mam, but you can't come with us."

She wants to respond with anger, she hates being this pathetic, lovesick girl. But, she deflates. "Have you ever been in love?"

His eyes change from their cold, professional stare to one of compassion. He nods, and simply stands aside. It's a wordless approval for her to climb into the back of the vehicle, which she doesn't hesitate to do.

She holds tightly to Nathan's hand. It's cold and lifeless in hers. The EMT looks at her, and their eyes connect for a short moment, before the female begins busying herself with starting an IV.

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"Jabby! Come in, I'm lonely," Brooke says, for the fifth time, only worded differently.

He smiles, and shakes his head. "Alright, but if I get bit by anything, you're paying for the hospital bill."

Brooke's phone rings, saving him from having to strip down to his boxers. She wades through the water, and fetches her phone from her pile of clothes.

"Hey, P. Sawyer, you totally just killed my mojo. I was just about to have a hot, wet guy…" Brooke's smiling face becomes ashen, and her knees buckle. Julian rushes to catch her. Her nails dig into his lower arms, and he winces from the pressure.

There isn't any goodbyes exchanges, just Brooke hurriedly gathering her clothes with shaking hands.

"I…Natey is in the hospital." She freezes at her own words.

There's the nickname again.

"He…um drank too much. He might not make it."

Suddenly his hospital joke isn't so funny anymore.

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Peyton is pacing the private waiting room-thanks to Scott name-when Brooke comes running in, and right into her arms. The brunette is soaked, and she can't tell what droplets are coming from her wet hair and which are tears. They separate just enough to look at each other, and the shorter girl wipes away the blonde's tears, and its way too obvious that there was a Nathan and Brooke way before she had entered the picture. Before she even knew either of them existed.

A guy, who she assumes is Julian, appears in the doorway not long after Brooke. His eyes don't leave her best friend once. And, she can tell that Brooke wants to go to his side, so she offers her friend a smile, and pushes the brunette towards him.

Peyton takes a seat, and of course Brooke sits beside her, Julian sitting on the other side of her. Brooke, as always is her strength, and now it seems as though her dear friend finally has someone to lean on.

After, what seems like hours, but in reality as only been forty minutes, a doctor comes into the little room. He looks rugged and tired.

"Nathan is…he's holding on. But, he needs a blood transfusion.."

"Then fucking give him one!" Peyton's outburst interrupts him before he can finish.

The grey haired man remains patient, clears his throat, and continues, "but, he has type B- blood, which is very rare. Unfortunately, we don't have that in stock here. When alcohol is overly consumed… "

Peyton sneers. "I know how alcohol poisoning works. Stock? Stock! This isn't a damn store! This is a hospital…ya know where you save lives. So, go in there and save his life!"

"I'm sorry Mrs. Scott, but we don't have the supplies we need, and there's no time to transfer him to another hospital."

"So, basically, you're saying he's gonna die," Brooke interjects. Her voice is sad, but eerily even, accepting of the situation.

Peyton jumps from her seat, and pushes the doctor, unexpectedly. The older man stumbles, but accepts her tiny, barely painful punches. Warm arms encompass her, and she fights the hold they have on her.

"SShh, Peyton. I know it sucks, and it's not going to be okay. At least not anytime soon. But, Brooke is here, and now I am here. Okay. Just breathe?" And she knows the voice belongs to Julian.

She relaxes and turns in his arms. "Lucas…" The name is breathless. "Lucas is Nathan's brother. They might have the same blood type."

Peyton looks at Julian, then they both turn to Brooke. Everything is about to get very complicated.

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It's early, the sun barely revealing itself with shades of orange and red. This is Lucas' favorite time to run. It's quiet and peaceful. Free of any high school drama. Any half-brothers or asshole fathers. His Ipod is set on the highest volume, and Counting Crows is blaring in his ears. However, no matter how loud the music is, he can still feel the insistent vibration of his cell phone resting in the pocket of his gym shorts.

This is the third time the person has called, so it must be important. Unless, of course it's Haley to talk about Julian, or Julian to talk about Brooke. But, just incase he decides to answer this time. Julian's name flashes on the screen, and he groans.

"Yes, Baker," he answers, rudely.

The response he gets is the last he ever imagined.

"Nathan is in the hospital, and he needs a transfusion. I know he's not your favorite person, but he'll die without it. And…"

"Julian…chill. I'll come as soon as I can. But, you know that it's a shot in a dark that I'm his blood type, right?"

He hears a sharp intake of breath. "I know, but you have to be. Because, it would hurt Brooke too much to lose him."

There isn't any jealousy in his tone, just desperation, and Lucas curses himself for having jogged farther than he normally did.

"Alright, I'll be there, bud. It's you, me, and Hales against the world, remember? And if that means death then so be it."

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Brooke looks up at the sound of numerous voices. Not only Lucas has showed up. Haley and youngish adults are there. She doesn't ask where Lucas is, because she wants to assume he is in the back having his blood tested.

The two adults take a seat, but for reason Haley remains standing and fidgets. Brooke looks around, noticing that there aren't any seats left. Not really thinking much of it, the former cheerleader stands, and tugs Julian up with her. She pushes him into her vacated seat, next to Peyton, and plops down in his lap.

She smiles, as best as she can considering the situation. "There ya go, Haley."

The other girl glares in response, and the urge to cry intensifies, which seemed impossible five minutes ago. Julian's hands grasp her hips, and his nose snuggles into her hair. She relaxes against him, and lets out a sigh. She feels the eyes of the two adults on them, who are sitting parallel to them.

"You must be Brooke," The woman with brown hair speaks.

Brooke eyes open, and she sits up in her new friend's lap. "Umm, yeah."

The young/old woman smiles. "I'm Karen. You are prettier than Julian described you." She lets out a short laugh. "He's talked about you constantly for years."

Brooke feels Julian tense beneath her, and rubs one of the arms wrapped around her to sooth him.

"Really?" She asks, blushing. She feels ashamed the moment a legitimate, wide smile stretches across her face.

"Yeah, I just wish we could have met under better circumstances."

Karen turns to Peyton, looking like she wants to say something, but doesn't. A doctor enters the room, a different one from before. Brooke almost laughs at the thought that maybe the previous was afraid of P. Sawyer.

"Lucas is a match."

Before he can continue, Peyton is out of her seat, and hugging the doctor, tears streaming down her face. Brooke is surprised by her friend's outburst of emotion. It isn't like the blonde to be so open, especially when it comes to Nathan.

The doctor is a female this time and awkwardly returns the hug.

"The transfusion is in progress now. You guys can go see both boys in pairs in a few hours. Lucas will have to stay overnight."

"Is he okay?" Haley asked, sending a dirty look in Peyton's direction, as if it was her fault if he wasn't.

"Yes, it's just a precaution. Mostly done because of protocol."

Brooke and Peyton's eyes meet, and they share a private moment. One that reassures the blonde that despite this incident Brooke still trusts Peyton to take of her boy.

When it comes time to visit the Scott brothers, they all agree Peyton and Karen should be the first ones, since the boys share a room.

Brooke looks down at Julian after they are informed of the news that the brothers are roommates. "How do you think they'll cope with that?"

Julian shrugs, and she smiles at his habit. "It'll be a disaster, definitely. But, at least they can't harm each other, physically, too bad, considering Nathan is bed bound. And Lucas would never take advantage of that."

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Peyton rushes over to Nathan's bedside, pushing sweat soaked hair off of his damp forehead. He looks up at her with blue eyes. He looks so sad, so broken.

"God, Nathan. Don't ever do that again. If you weren't already in here, I would put you in here." Her loving tone contradicts the threat.

He smiles, and lifts his heavy hand towards her face. Noticing his struggle, she takes it in hers and presses a kiss to it.

"Nathan Royal Scott, I love you, so much."

"Peyton Elizabeth Sawyer, you drive me to insanity, but I love you too." His voice is hoarse. "But, right now I think I might love water more."

"Ya know, after that I might just let you die of thirst."

They return to the natural routine of playful banter, but she knows they will never be the same. Because, he had done this, because of her. Because of his feelings for her. They were so strong he had almost killed himself. And that scares the shit out of her.

She grabs the cup of water from the table beside his bed, and, of course, he refuses her help, and struggles to drink it himself. Despite it obviously being difficult, he succeeds in getting a decent amount, and hands it back to her.

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Despite sharing a room, Karen and Lucas can't make out the conversation happening on the other side of the curtain. And they don't try, because it is more than likely intimate. Or at least Karen doesn't try.

"You still have a thing for her, huh?"

Lucas looks up at her, his blue eyes wide and innocent. He sighs. "Yeah, I guess. She deserves better."

Karen places her hand over her son's and gives it a loving squeeze. "She seems to love him. Very deeply."

Blue eyes narrow. Dan's eyes. Except not Dan's. Lucas'.

"Maybe so, but he doesn't love her."

Karen sighs. "How do you know, Lucas?"

He pulls his hand from under hers, and she frowns, hurt by his action. "Are you really taking his side?"

"No, no, I'm not. You're my son, I love you, and I will always be on your side. But, sometimes you just have to face the truth." She isn't sure if she is still talking about Peyton, Nathan, and her son, or Dan, Deb, and her.

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When Karen and Peyton return to the waiting room, Julian looks over to Haley, silently asking if she will be okay if he goes with Brooke. She nods, but he doesn't miss the look exchanged between Keith and Haley. He doesn't quite know the meaning behind it, but its obvious the older man knows something he doesn't. Something pertaining to Haley, something that upsets her, and he is worried.

Just as Brooke and him are about to the pass the nurses' desk, he stops, pulling on their joined hands to get her to do the same. She looks up at him with those eyes, and he almost doesn't say what he is about to.

"I, uh, I should go back to Haley. She seemed upset about something, and I'm not sure what it is, and that…"

"Bothers you. I understand. I have best friends too, ya know. My Nathan is your Haley. Peyton is my Lucas."

He nods. "Actually, I think it's the other way around."

"So, you have a complicated past with Lucas?" He can tell she hadn't meant to voice it. She has basically just admitted to having some sort problematic past with Nathan, but right now isn't an appropriate time to dig further.

"Yeah." He kisses her forehead, then turns and leaves her.

He makes it as far to the entrance of the waiting room when it occurs to him that Nathan had literally almost died. He could have died tonight. And here he is leaving Brooke to go check on Haley for what is probably some insignificant issue. Lucas, sure he is being kept in the hospital for twenty-fours, but he is going to be okay. He didn't have a near death experience. Didn't go on a drinking binge because he was hurting beyond comprehension.

Swiftly, he turns on his heel, and all but runs towards the Scott room, only to find that Brooke is still where he left her. Her hands are covering her face, and her shoulders are shaking. He doesn't waste a second in pulling her into his arms. She doesn't protest, she just collapses against him, mumbling about how she eventually, always loses everybody.

Slowly, he guides her towards where she wants, needs to be, and turns into the room when they reach it. Lucas, who is in bed number one, looks at them curiously, and Julian just sends him a 'back off' look.

"Natey is awake," Julian whispers in ear, and without giving Julian a second look, she rushes over to the hospital bed and into her friend's arms.

"Natey." The name is breathless and devastated.

"Brookie." The reply is identical.

The basketball players blue eyes land on Julian, and they are broken, vulnerable.

"Thanks, for beating the shit out of me yesterday. I deserved it."

Julian can tell Nathan is prepared for a verbal assault, but he's not going to receive one, not right now, not from Julian.

"It's okay. Everyone makes mistakes. It's obvious you love Brooke."

Brooke looks up from where she buried her nose in her friend's neck. "Julian, pull back the curtain."

Julian wants to protest, but doesn't. Because, damn those eyes, he just can't seem to say no to them. So, he does, and for the first time in probably years, the Scott brothers are within a few feet of each other and not in some sort stand off.

Brooke climbs off of Nathan and goes over to Lucas. She grabs his hand, and for some reason, Julian is jealous.

"Thanks for what you did. I can't even begin to describe how much it means…"

"Go out with me." It's abrupt, no questioning tone at all, and cuts her off mid-sentence.

Nathan pipes in, literally a second later. "I understand you saved my life, but if you're expecting sex from Brooke…"

Lucas shakes his head. "No, I just want to take her out, on an honest date."

Nathan looks over at Julian, and he seems to know what he is thinking, because his look is sympathetic.

"I…um…" Brooke turns towards him, and Julian urges himself to say something, anything, but he doesn't, of course.

"I guess. Why not?" She says, releasing his hand, and heading over to Julian's side where she snuggles.

Julian feels privileged and satisfied when Lucas sends a glare his way.

"So, Lucas, dude, since you finally realized that Peyton doesn't want you, you decide to go after your best friend's girl?" Nathan's questions causes a tension to settle over the room.

"Brooke isn't my girl." Julian's response causes Brooke to move away from him, not a lot, just enough for him to notice.

JBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJB

Around noon, Julian drops Brooke off at her house, and she leaves the truck with a simple wave and nod of the head. But, at the last minute, she places a soft, short kiss on his cheek.

"Jabby, I am your girl," she informs him. "Whether you like it or not, you're stuck with me now."

He grabs her arm when she's half-way out of the vehicle. "Then Penny, I'm your guy. No matter what."

She looks down. "Even if I go on this date with Lucas."

He nods. "Yeah, even if."

She smiles and looks up. "Good, because he is really hot."

And the mood is ruined. At least for him.

"Get some sleep, Andy. You're gonna need it."

She finishes climbing out of the truck, and waves as he pulls out of her driveway.

**Scroll down for Spoilers**

**Spoilers coming**

**warning spoilers coming soon**

**stop now if you don't want to be spoiled**

**okay spoilers...**

_Naley will get together some time during this story, as will Brucas. Leyton? _

_Jake will be making an appearance. _

_This chapter was the official beginning of Neyton's downfall. Will they get back together? _

_There will be some Jaley (Julian/Haley)_

_No Pulian though, not at all. Julian is Brooke's guy! _


	3. Daydreams and I Love Yous

**This chapter has a mild or detailed sex scene**...depending on what you consider detailed. I'm not sure if I'm going to be able to go through with the spoilers I posted in the last chapter. My muse just isn't good at following certain things. Especially since this is a Neyton/Brulian story. That was made obvious in the summary, and in the character selection. Lucas and Haley...I'm not quite sure who they are going to be paired with. So, while I do appreciate any and all reviews I get, please don't ask for Naley or Brucas in them. Because it probably isn't gonna happen. And if it does, it'll be like for one paragraph, like it was in the last chapter. And Leyton is definitely not gonna happen. I HATE them. But, all characters will be treated fairly in this story, and will not be bashed. Intentionally. Anyway I hope this rant didn't sound rude or bitchy, because that was not my intention. I do love feedback! But I feel bad when I can't give my readers what they want. I do like Brucas and Naley, but not enough to sit down and write them. Sorry.

I like the mixture I have with Neyton and Brulian. Brulian are super sweet, so much so it's almost sickening. Neyton are destructive and about as unhealthy as a couple can get. Both couples work...perfectly despite the flaws I just pointed out. So anyway...onto the next chapter. Happy reading everyone.

Part 3...WOOHOO

After a long, restless night spent in the hospital Lucas is finally being released. His mom and uncle are there, as well as his two childhood best friends, though there is a noticeable tension in the room. It can be felt in every glare he receives from Julian, every look Haley sends Julian. And it's only intensified by the low whispers coming from the other side of the curtain, accompanied by the quiet cries of either or both Peyton and Brooke.

The veins bulging in Julian's neck and clenched fists are apparent signs of his desire to go sooth Brooke, and the tight grip Haley's teeth have on her bottom lip makes her jealousy known. But, they are still here, all in the same room, awaiting his discharge, so they can go hang out at the Rivercourt afterwards. Even though Julian is horrible at basketball, and Haley detests the sport. It is their spot, plus Mouth and Skills are there waiting for them, along with a few others who the three of them trust enough to call friends, but not family.

But, not even the Rivercourt is going to be able to repair the damage the dimple-smiled, raven haired girl has brought upon their tight knit group. If asked, Lucas will be the first to admit that he has watched Peyton religiously for years, way before the blonde had any connection to Brooke. But, Lucas has always had a fascination with things he can't have. And right now his best friend's crush has his interest piqued with the possibility that Julian's feelings might be requited.

Though, Nathan's little reminder that Peyton has absolutely no interest in him just fed his obsession with her. All three girls in his life, at least the ones who are currently playing major roles, all seem to belong to someone else. Even though it's only been three days Julian and Brooke seem to have a wordless claim on each other. Nathan and Peyton, on the hand, are very public about their ownership. Then there's Nathan and Brooke. They have this vibe…one that Lucas can't identify, and as a writer that frustrates him, because he can't put in it into words.

Haley, well, she belongs to Julian, even if he is clueless to the fact. And, of course, Lucas wants his best friend to be happy, so that's another reason why Brooke has to be his, and not Julian's. Julian belongs to Haley. The pair of cheerleader best friends belong to him. Nathan needs to go on another drinking binge, and not be found.

He is dressed now, has been for quite awhile, but everyone is waiting to say goodbye to a certain someone on the other side of the curtain, so when it is pulled aside, there are a variety of emotional reactions. But, there is no denying that Brooke's eyes land on Julian first, and the love sick grin on both of their faces, as they embrace.

She is swept into his arms, her feet lifted off the ground, her eyes closing and her nostrils flaring as she takes in his scent. Lucas' muscles tighten at the reaction his friend entices from the brunette. Then, she is heading over to him, her eyes bloodshot from all the tears she must have cried throughout the night. Funny, those eyes had been clear and bright when she looked at Julian measly minutes before.

He doesn't focus on that, instead he takes in the swing of her hips, and the slow movement of her feet, which are covered with a pair of rainbow crocs.

"Lucas." She says his name, and he snaps his eyes up to hers, and she smiles, but her dimples can't be seen.

"I…um…I don't think…that date is such a good idea. Ya know everything was just in chaos, and I had almost lost my best friend, and you saved his life, even though you hated him and have practically been humping his girlfriend's aka my other best friend's legs for years. And…I, just…I thought…Lucas has to be an amazing guy…but going out with you out of gratitude wouldn't be fair to you or me. So I'm sorry, but I'm changing my answer to No."

He nods, though disappointed, he accepts her answer, for now. He is earned with a dimpled smile a short kiss on the cheek. He closes his eyes at the feel of her lips, but his eyes snap open when he can no longer feel her presence beside him. She is, once again, beside his best friend, wound up in his arms, except this time her lips are pressed to his cheek, dangerously close to his mouth.

Lucas clears his throat, bringing the couple back to reality. "We should get going, the Rivercourt has been neglected lately," he jokes.

Julian smiles down at Brooke. "Yeah, but for good reason."

Haley rolls her eyes, and tugs on the love-sick boy's arm. "Come on, Jules."

Brooke waves, sending one last wink at her 'friend'. Julian says goodbye to Nathan and Peyton. Lucas makes sure to do the same to Peyton, but basically ignores Nathan.

JBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJB

Once alone, the three best friends all lounge around the now more relaxed atmosphere of the hospital room. Nathan's bed is in an inclined position, and Peyton is sitting beside him, barely touching, but there is definite cuddle action going on.

Brooke is perched on the edge of the bed, a straw in-between her lips as she drinks the Mt. Dew Julian had bought her. Something outside has her interest until her blonde best friend kicks not so gently in the thigh. The brunette glares at her friend, but the dirty look quickly diminishes into a smile.

"So, you and Julian…" Peyton leaves it open ended.

"Me and Julian…" Brooke repeats.

Peyton raises her eyebrows. "Brooke…"

Letting out an exaggerated sigh, Brooke rolls her eyes. "Alright, so I kinda might like him just a bitty bit."

"Just a little? Brooke, you do realize you just cancelled a date with Lucas Scott, right? The newest Ravens basketball player…the guy that all the girls are after now…"

"Actually no I don't know…but yeah I did cancel it…"

"And you know why you don't know?"

Brooke sits there, waiting for Peyton to continue. But, it becomes apparent that she wants an answer to her question.

"Enlighten me."

"Because you are clueless to any other guy but Julian, have been for the past three days."

Brooke rolls her eyes, and looks to Nathan for help, and receives nothing but a shrug.

"I…I've been busy," she defends herself, without success.

"What exactly do you mean by 'the guy that all the girls are after'?" Nathan pipes in, his voice suspicious.

"All the girls except for the two hottest ones in Tree Hill, of course," Brooke sing songs, referring to her and Peyton.

Nathan and Peyton share a look, one that Brooke has seen many times before. They are about to get it on, no matter if there's company or who that company may or may not be. Brooke smiles when her blonde friend smirks right before Nathan captures her lips, effectively cutting off any protests she might have had.

Brooke begins to leave, as inconspicuously as possible. But, she's never been that good at going unnoticed. So, the couple separate, and Peyton insists she stay, and though Nathan looks frustrated, he agrees.

Brooke shakes her head, with a smile. "No, you two love birds, just get back to your little 'thing'. You guys deserve some time alone."

The bouncy brunette is out the door before another word can be spoken, and the 'IT' couple share a laugh. Then Peyton punches Nathan in the shoulder, hard. Really hard, and he winces, rubbing the spot she hit.

"What the fuck, Sawyer!" He curses. "You're fucking crazy!"

"I'm crazy? You're the one who basically committed suicide!"

"Um, Blondie, in order to commit suicide, I'm pretty sure you have to be successful."

Her beautiful green eyes are narrow and sparkling with life, love, anger, and so many other emotions. All caused by him. He cups her cheek, and her face softens, for a moment, but she is quickly slapping him away.

"Nathan, you are not going to seduce me! Sex is not going to fix this!"

He smirks. "All it takes is me touching your face, and you're horny?"

"Nathan…"

"Because that's just fine…one touch from you is all it takes to make me…"

"Nathan Royal Scott, finish that sentence and you will never get hard again."

"You finished it for me, Peyton Elizabeth Sawyer," he says, with a laugh. "Ya know…'hard'…okay, not funny to you." He sighs.

Her shoulders tense, then thrust forward, with the force of a loud sob. "You could have died, because of me."

His arms wrap around her, to, ironically, protect her from himself. Because that's all he's wanted to do since the first time he kissed her on the top of the stairs, in his father's beach house, during the first party of the summer before their Sophmore year. It was supposed to be a onetime thing, a normal one nighter, but as soon as their lips separated, he refused her invitation to continue somewhere more private.

Because as soon as those green eyes, darkened with lust, looked into his, he knew he was a goner, and that he wanted something more with her. And that if he were to fuck her, he would also be fucking himself, his heart. Then, stupid Brooke, had to go and befriend her, and the stupid blond cheerleader was always there, all the fucking time.

But, she didn't throw herself at him like all the other girls, didn't even so much as glance his way when in the same room as him. It went on like that for about a month, until one night, of course during another party, in the exact same spot, he kissed her again. She was pissed, extremely. Her eyes, they gave her away though, giving away her desire for him. So, he made this absolutely ridiculous speech.

_"I want you. So bad. Have since that night…however long ago. Shockingly, I don't just want to fuck you, I want to be with you. I'll hurt you more than I'll make you smile. There are plenty of other girls in here with bigger boobs, better asses, thicker thighs, but god, you won't leave my fucking head. You're a…bitch. And I hate you. And I will tell you that everyday, don't expect me to ever tell you….the opposite. I'm not capable of that feeling."_

_Her eyes narrow, dangerously, and he feels himself stiffen. He wants nothing more than to pull her to him and kiss her, he can't remember ever wanting anything more. Her long, artistic fingers trail over his cheek, outlining the bone. He's seen her draw, and her dreams are easily depicted in her art. They're just another reminder of what he can't give her. But, that doesn't stop him from grabbing her wrist, and pulling her flush against him._

_Their lips meet with a fervor that only the other can match. But, he forces that thought out of his mind, because she can't possibly be the only one. They stumble backwards, both of them nowhere near sober. Somehow they stumble into an empty bedroom, and he nearly falls, but manages to stop himself, not wanting to crush her with his dead weight. This thought suddenly turns into one of him worrying about her walking backwards, and that terrifies the shit out of him, so to punish himself for it, and her for bringing it forth, he turns them around and crashes her back against the door, closing it._

_Her tiny moan of pain only proves to make his pants tighter, though that little voice in the back of mind gets louder. Her long, lean legs wrap around his waist, her black converses digging into his back. It's a great contrast to the normal feeling of heels, but it's a welcome change. But, he isn't sure he likes it. One he wants to keep. Needs to keep._

_She begins to rotate her hips, and he bites back a groan, hands gripping her hips to assist her in the movements of her pelvis. He wants so badly to keep his own hips still, to not let her know how much she really effects him. But, when he cups one of her still clothed breasts, squeezing gently, then harder when being gentle fails to get a response, and she arches into him, her hips thrusting roughly into his, he grunts._

_Now, both hands are gripping her pelvis, and he is practically fucking her with clothes on. This only lasts a few moments, but it leaves her completely speechless, and he wonders if she is going to be able to keep up with greedy passion she brings out in him. Then, her fingers are tangling in his dark hair and their tongues are dancing. He fumbles with the bottom of black, nirvana t-shirt, and finds that it is impossible to remove when they are so close. Separating is not an acceptable option, so with their lips still attached, he rips it, right down the middle._

_"I happened to like that shirt," she croaks, and all he can focus on is that her lips are there, they exist, but they aren't touching his. They aren't doing their job._

_"Fuck it." She seems to agree, eagerly responding to the newly started kiss, reaching behind her to unclasp her bra. Then his hands are everywhere, exploring, never staying in one place too long._

_He captures a nipple in his mouth, flicking his tongue over the puckered bud, before biting down softly, then harder, drawing blood into his mouth. She squirms against him, his name leaving her in a breathy moan. Her small hands are struggling with his shirt. He ignores her silent pleas for assistant in the removal of his clothes and continues his assault on her body. He makes a trail of kisses along her neck and shoulders._

_He locates her pulse point, the proof that this sinful creature with him is real. He bites down on the sensitive area, and sinks his teeth in further when she pushes his lower body away._

_His mouth leaves her body and for a moment they just stare at each other. Her small chest is heaving, and her hands are shaking when she reaches between them to undo his jeans. He removes his hands from her butt, allowing her to feet to fall, and places them on the door, one hand is now on either side of her head._

_His pants and briefs pool around his feet and he steps out of them. They stand there, daring the other to stop what is about to happen. At the same time, they reach for the button on her jean shorts, eyes not once breaking their gaze. Using the grasp they both have on the hem of her shorts, he pulls her to him._

_"Last chance."_

_She shakes her head. "No. Everything you said, earlier. I'm worse. Trust me."_

_"Doubt it."_

_Before the conversation can continue she has him in her hand, stroking him deliciously so. In that moment he knows he is addicted to her, and that no one has ever and will ever be able to touch him like she can. Her shorts are on the carpet followed by her panties, her doing._

_As if their minds are linked, they grab each other in unison, coming back together in a frenzy. They fall down onto the bed, him on top of her._

_"I hate your hair," he insults._

_"You have Dan's eyes," she bites back, and he tenses, driving himself into with such speed he swears he must be tearing her in half. But, never, in a million tears, did he ever think he would literally tear her. But, he does, he did. He took it. Like this. In a horrible, disgusting way._

_Goddamnit! He had told her that he would only hurt her. He knew, he should have stopped it. She is laying there, under him, eyes clamped shut, tears clinging to her eyelashes._

_He does something completely uncharacteristic, he pulls out of her, and rolls them over. Pulling the blanket up over them, he tugs her against his side._

_"Nirvana isn't that bad…" It's a lame attempt to fix what he just broke, but it makes her laugh. He clears his throat. "Look, uh, Brooke is having this party, and, well. Fuck! Do you wanna go with me, as my date?"_

_She tenses in his arms. "You don't have to act different with me, just because this was…"_

_"Your first time?"_

_"Yeah."_

_"I'm acting differently with you, because I've never been in this situation. I have popped a few cherries, but never someone's who I actually liked."_

_She looks at him, and nods her acceptance. That was it. Nathan Scott officially has a girlfriend. He just isn't sure his girlfriend knows that yet._

"Peyton, I survived, because of you," he assures her. "You're the only reason I'm still alive. And I'm not just talking about the other night."

She knows there's a lot more that he wants to say, but those simple words are all she needs to understand everything. And if that's all he can give her right now, that's fine.

"I love you, Nathan Scott."

"I love you, too Peyton Sawyer."

NPNPNPNPNPNPNPNPNPNPNPNPNP

Julian watches, or more like daydreams, from the picnic table, as Lucas attempts to teach Haley how to shoot a basketball. The laugh of his daydream somehow has made it into his reality, and so has the main character.

She is running towards him, freshly showered, dressed in extremely short jean shorts, and a tight red tank top, that reveals her mid-drift. She runs and jumps onto the table beside him, nearly pushing him and Mouth off it, as the momentum of her jump/sitting causing her to slide across the piece of small wooden furniture.

Much to his dislike, she ignores him, though she has to lean over him to order to shake his friend's hand.

"Hi, I'm Brooke Davis, Jabby's unofficial girl thingy," she says with a cheeky smile.

His friend is even more inexperienced when it comes to girls, which is possible. But, the lanky boy does have a certain charm to him, one that Brooke seems to notice.

"I'm Mouth."

Brooke, being Brooke, climbs onto Julian's lap, without asking, not that he really cares, to be closer to her new friend. Because to Brooke, everyone is her friend.

"Is Mouth your real name? No offense or anything, but that's a really weird name, but my middle name is Penelope," her voice lowers as she says the last word, "but don't tell anyone. I trust you though. You seem sweet."

"My real name is Marvin…I just have a big mouth," he explains.

She laughs, and touches his arm. "Oh yeah, me too! I talk a lot, so I apologize in advance for anything I might say to offend you." She shrugs.

And it looks so innocent that Julian almost believes it. He chuckles, earning himself a smack from his lap's occupant. Her attention averts over to the basketball duo.

"So Broody Basketball Robot is teaching Tutor Girl to play?"

"Yeah," Julian answers, with ease.

But, Mouth looks confused. "Broody what? And Tutor Girl?"

"Lucas is teaching Haley to play basketball," Julian translates Brooke for him.

"Ya know, Natey would love it here, but don't worry I know this is Lucas' spot and I respect that."

Julian just prays she doesn't look at him, that way, or in anyway, because he knows he will say yes, even if she doesn't ask, and respects Lucas' space. Because there had been a tiny bit of wistfulness in her voice. That is negative, Brooke and negative are bad. Julian hates bad when it comes to his Bumblebee.

Brooke's phone goes off, and she accepts the text message. She makes it a point to hide the screen from Mouth, but doesn't seem to care if Julian reads it, so he does. Of course. Who wouldn't?

The first thing he notices is the undeniable masculine name. Clay.

_From: Clay_

_Omg. Im sry I shud hv ben there. I bot tickets be there in morning don't wait up._

_Sent: 6:47 Aug 23_

_Received: 6:47 Aug 23_

He wants to ask what the message is about, but doesn't. She tells him anyways.

"That was Clay, my sorta, not really brother. I told him what happened with Nathan, and he is coming down for a week or so to check in on him. And I guess he is bringing his girlfriend, though he insists they are just friends…but he lies about shit like that."

She squirms, bouncing in his lap and he winces at the impact. He grabs hold of her hips, stilling her.

"Brooke, you are inflicting pain on a very sensitive part of my body."

She blushes, hiding it behind a curtain of hair right away. "Sorry. Didn't mean to," she mumbles.

Sometimes he wonders what her sexual history really is. It certainly can't be like everyone says it is. She blushes way too much for it to be. She would probably be shocked at what kind of thoughts her tiny outfits cause.

Finally, she replies to the text.

_To: Clay_

_NP. Evrythng is under cntrl 4 the most part u no same old same ole shit happenin itll b gud 2 cya u tho. Nite clay. Luv u._

_Sent: 7:00 Aug 23_

"Julian, uh, can I spend the night at your house again tonight?"

He nods, because he has no other choice. She is impossible to say no to.

"I see you don't have your truck. So you finally get to ride in my stupid ass car," she whines, "just like you've been begging to do."

"I haven't been…"

"Jabby, you've been begging."

"Okay, maybe a bit."

JBJBJBJBJBJBJBJB

It isn't until Haley hears the obnoxious laughter that she realizes Julian is leaving with Brooke. She feels that familiar feeling of jealousy, but one look over at Mouth, its evident that Brooke has been there for quite a while, and she hadn't noticed. Had she really been that caught up in the feel of Lucas' hands on her to not notice her surroundings?

_The next chapter will pretty much pick up exactly where this one left off. You will get to read about Brulian's sleepover. Now that I can PROMISE you! _


	4. Brands and Second Chances

**So, I had A LOT of ideas for this chapter, and if I allowed myself this thing probably never would have ended. But, it took me forever to write this much, and it's still not as good as I wanted it to be. But anyway sorry for the wait. A classic Brucas moment is sorta used for Brulian in this chapter. But, IMO, I think I took it and made it better. Um Owen, Chase, and Chris are introduced in this chapter and since they are minor character and probably will remain so, I will tell you their ages...**

**Owen is 20 years old. **

**Chase is 19**

**Chris 19**

**Callison- Clay will probably be making his appearance in the next chapter. :)**

**rachtree- Thanks so much for your review. It totally made my day, more like my week. Personally, I would much rather write a destructive couple than a fluffy couple. They are just more...fun I guess. Not exactly the best word. Brathan's history is referred to a bit in this chapter. **

**Guest- I love Brulian too. I'm not sure about them getting together soon. I am definitely continuing. **

**Brulianlove- Wow. Thanks so much for the compliment. That means a lot. Hopefully after this chapter it will still be one of your favorite stories. **

**On to another topic, I was considering writing a Brouth story. They were so cute in seasons 2 and 3, but were never given a fair chance. What do you guys think? Would any of you be interested in reading about this pairing? **

**Finally...Chapter Four**

Julian very much regrets ever wanting to ride in Brooke's car. Even though the bug isn't known for being a speedster, he should known she was a risk taker and would make it one. When he says this, she scoffs.

"Jabby, who says speedster, really?" But her voice is playful as she removes a hand from the wheel and pokes him in the side. And for the first time he wishes her touch away, because he would really like her tiny hand to be on the wheel instead.

Then, she does a u-turn, the abused tires protesting as gravel spins under the pressure on the county road. He squeals, and knows he sounds like a scared little girl, frankly, he doesn't care. Because their lives are much more important. But, she doesn't seem the least bit concerned, a dimple smiled firmly planted on her face.

"I know exactly where we should go," she says, an awe sound to her voice, as if something just dawned on her.

"I thought we were going to my house," he says, his voice almost pleading. Alright, it WAS pleading. He just knows this place, whatever it is, is going to be trouble.

She rolls her eyes, he knows she does. "Come on, loosen up Jabby. I promise I'm not gonna get us killed," she swerves the car a bit, with a giggle, "maybe a little damaged, but not killed."

"Penny, you're evil, ya know that?" He answers, his heart beating erratically in his chest.

"So, I've been told."

The ride after that is calm and uneventful, and while he is grateful for that, he knows Brooke is going to find a way to make up for that later. She takes a sharp turn into a large field, and if he doesn't know any better he would think this is the part where she kills him. But, this is Brooke Davis so…and her door opens and there is blaring music. Yep, definitely trouble.

Her door closes and he remains enclosed in the safety of the vehicle, until the slight chill of the autumn intrudes when Brooke opens the door. She is bent down, looking at him expectantly, her hand outstretched. He studies the goose bumped covered flesh of her arm. She is cold. It had been warmer when she had chosen her outfit. The knowledge of her possible discomfort is what drives him to enter the unknown territory of the other half of the teenage world.

He pulls the 'Scott Body Shop' hoodie over his head, and silently offers it to her. She looks at it for a moment. It had never occurred to him that she might not accept it. But, she grabs it with a small non-dimpled, yet genuine smile. She pulls it over her head, ruffling her immaculate curls. Taking hold of his hand, she leads him to where she wants and it takes him back to the first time he ever hung out with her.

They step into the glow of a camp light, and there is a blush tinting her cheeks. Julian can't stop himself from touching the heated flesh. Brooke's downcast eyes snap up to his, and he is very aware that they are among a crowd of other teenagers, possibly a few older college students. Right now he doesn't care.

"You're blushing," his voice is smooth, and even he can hear the seductive gleam in it. Or maybe he sounds creepy.

It might be his imagination, but she steps closer to him, and he curses himself for letting her borrow his hoodie. Because, right now if it wasn't for it, they would be chest to chest, tank top to t-shirt, cotton to cotton.

Suddenly, someone screams, drunkenly, "whore!" effectively breaking the spell, and getting Brooke's attention. The raven haired girl seems annoyed but delighted at the sound of the word, but Julian doesn't like it.

Soon, a red head is flinging her arms around Brooke's shoulders leaning all her weight on a surprised Brooke. "Woah, Rach, you are wasted already."

A tiny giggle is accompanied with a shake of the head. "Nope, just a bit tipsy."

Brooke shakes her head, and shifts her feet in order to support her friend's weight better. Julian moves to help her, but she shakes her head. "Rachel, sweetie, what am I going to do with you?"

The red head becomes offended, and she pushes herself out of Brooke's arms, stumbling away from them. "Like you fucking care, Miss Perfect Davis. The only reason you ever noticed me this summer was cuz I was a threat to your little throne, Miss Queen B. No matter what the hell I do, you still won't let me touch that spot that is reserved specially for Miss. Tortured, Slit My Wrists, even though she fucked you over just to get laid."

"How do you know…?"

Rachel flicks her wrist. "Please, everyone knows about Brathan, and what they should have been," a mocking laugh leaves the glossed, yet cracked lips of the pretty girl, "I might be a backstabbing slut, but I am loyal to my friends. I would never do that to you."

"We had just become friends, she didn't know…" Brooke defends, and Julian stands back, taking in the situation.

"Bullshit, everyone knew! I know, and I wasn't even here then. It's there every time you look at each other. She stole everything from you! Everything that mattered. And like that wasn't enough, she had to have…"

"SHUT THE FUCK UP! Just shut up! Please. You don't know her or me. You don't understand anything that happened back then. And the so called look you're talking about, it's filled with barely concealed hatred and resentment. Trust me."

Julian senses that Brooke is on the verge of her breaking point, and moves up behind her, wrapping his arms around her and brings her back against his chest. She is tense at first, but soon relaxes after Rachel stumbles out of their line of sight.

"Please, don't ask any questions. I'll tell you everything, soon. And it's not anything like she said. It's…it's a lot more complicated than that. The three of us…Nathan, Peyton, and I…all made life changing decisions that summer. Mine had the biggest impact, though. It's what, in the end, determined my future with Nathan. And well, as you know, we're friends."

She hasn't turned in his arms, and he isn't sure if that's a good or bad sign.

"Do you ever regret your choice?" He dreads her answer, and when all he is met with is silence, he regrets asking.

"Everyday." Her voice is soft, and full of so much pain it's beyond comprehension. "But not for the reasons you're thinking."

He wants to dig deeper into the subject, to know why her voice sounds so wounded, but she is tugging on his arm before he can say anything. What Julian considers to be quite a large man, not so much as fat, as muscular comes up to them. Even though he will deny it later, he is definitely intimidated.

But, Brooke seems at ease in his presence. In fact, she doesn't hesitate in giving him a short hug, before returning to Julian's side and looping her arm through his.

"Jabby, this is Owen," Brooke yells over the music, "one of my bestest friends ever! And Owen this is Jabby, but I'm sure he'd rather you call him Julian."

Owen's brown eyes scan him. "So, you're the son o' bitch who has occupied our Baby B's time for the passed few days. Huh?"

Julian struggles to respond, but Brooke laughs "Owen, be nice to my Juju."

Owen tugs her away from Julian's side and against his, giving her a tight squeeze. "Always, sugarplum."

In response, the petite girl rolls her eyes and pulls herself free from the embrace. Shuffling his feet, Julian fights the urge to fidget with his fingers, shirt, anything that would make him look like a dork.

"Clay is coming home…" Brooke says, and Owen's stoic face suddenly breaks out into a grin.

The petite girl is pulled into a tight embrace, lifted off the ground, and twirled in the air. When she is back on her feet, the bulky guy brushes hair away from her face.

"With him back, maybe things will start to make sense again." There is a bit of shame in his voice. "But, why is he coming back?" He asks, sounding suspicious.

"What makes you think he needs a reason? Maybe he just wanted to see us…"

"Brooke…"

"Okay, fine…Nathan is in the hospital."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

Brooke shrugs, that same sadness from before in her eyes. "I didn't think you'd care."

Owen nods, his face returning to it's earlier expression, or lack there of. "You're right, I don't."

Brooke seems to notice something Julian doesn't, because she cups her friend's cheek, or at least he hopes Owen is just her friend, and whispers "he's okay, O."

A smile replaces the blank look on the older man's face, and he raises his beer. "Enough serious shit, can I get you two a drink?"

Julian is about to decline, but Brooke beats him to it and politely says, "yes."

He knows before he tastes it that it's a type of alcohol. Brooke, without hesitation, puts the glass bottle to her lips and takes a big gulp, the smooth skin of her neck convulsing seductively as she swallows. He imagines himself sucking on that flesh, exploring every inch until he finds the spots that make her writher and moan his name, begging for more.

Right before the drink leaves her mouth, her tongue swipes around the top to gather any escaped liquid. The dirty thoughts swirling through his head motivate him to take his own long swig. Maybe Julian is just paranoid, but Owen is looking at him as if he knows that he is thinking about every possible way there is to violate Brooke's body.

Some girl captures the other man's attention, in more ways than one, leaving Julian alone with his fantasies and unfortunately Brooke. His beer is half gone by time she is on her second. Then, she is taking the beverage from his hands and leading him over to a more crowded area.

He spots the make-shift bar, and knows that he should stop there. He could easily stop, and restrain her as well. But, he doesn't because he is curious to see where this night might lead. Despite the two beers she has downed already, she takes a seat on one of the miss matched stools, gracefully crossing one bare leg over the other. Julian follows close behind, choosing to stand near her, rather than sit.

A black-haired, brown-eyed boy approaches them, a drink already prepared for Brooke. Wordlessly, without any consent or question of what he may want, the bartender slides him a tall glass and Julian struggles to catch it before it falls off the counter.

Brooke giggles at the event, and grabs his hand, pulling him down onto one of the stools. She sips leisurely on her drink, in no hurry to finish it, and he repeats her actions. By now his head feels woozy and his vision is a bit clouded, but that doesn't stop him from joining her on the dance floor. Although, he is pretty sure he had objected at first. Hadn't he?

But, none of that matters once her hips are in his hands, her behind pressed up against his groin, and her hair teasing his senses with it's flowery smell. He feels stupid, just standing there like a deer caught in head lights as this beautiful girl grinds against him, laughing and talking about something he can't quite hear over the loud music.

Then, she turns around so they are face to face, well not really. He is a good foot taller than her. As always, she finds a solution to their problem, and pulls his ear down level to her mouth. He shivers, involuntarily at the sensation of the delicate, untouched (by him) skin brushing against the lobe of his ear. He is so caught up in the intense way his body responds, that his lust fogged mind almost doesn't register the reason for the movement of her lips is verbalization.

"That guy at the bar was Chase. Him and Owen have this dream of owning a bar someday, and this is their way of sorta making it happen before it actually does, ya know?"

Julian forces himself to put a bit more space between them, it's the only way he'll be able to give this serious conversation the attention it deserves, give everything she says, whether it be a lame attempt at a joke or confiding him about Nathan, the attention it deserves. Although, it truly is painful to rob himself of the heat of her body, excruciatingly so.

"That seems like…

Brooke sighs, her shoulders sagging, her hips ceasing in their movements. "Lame?"

He is quick to shake his head. "No. Brave. Really brave. To have such a big dream, and have the faith to blindly reach for it, like they are. I can't imagine how much money they invest in all this alcohol, and I haven't seen them charge anyone for a drink tonight. Can they even legally do this?"

Mysteriously, Brooke kinks an eyebrow, giving it away. She was a contradiction. "Of course not."

"Bumblebee, what are your dreams?" He asks, and he knows his voice is too serious. He should have stayed with their joking vibe, and he might have been able to get something out of her.

Instead, she smiles that smile that he has grown to hate. He wants to tell her that he can see through it, but he doesn't want to scare her.

"Well," her tongue runs along her top teeth, before making a clicking sound, a mischievous smile replacing her fake one, "I did have quite a naughty dream the other night. It included you…with a tattoo."

She takes a step towards him, barely pressing herself against him, just enough for her bare knees to come in contact with his jean covered ones, but its enough for him to know that whatever she has planned, he is already a willing victim.

"You don't have any tattoos, do you?" Her voice is sultry, and her breath smells of liquor. He's always hated the odor, but when associated with her, it's different. And he has the push to kiss her, to taste the tantalizing smell.

He shakes his head, his mouth forming a silent "no"

Then, as soon as she turns on the moment, she turns it off by dragging him- she seems to do that a lot- towards wherever the hell they are going. Like a puppy who still isn't sure how to respond to a lease, he is led by her through a mob of dancing bodies, a few beer pong tables. And he thinks he might have seen a couple having sex…?

His curious, naïve eyes stop their exploration when he is forced to an abrupt stop. Brooke's eyes are looking up at him, all bright and hopeful.

"This here, is Chris," she introduces, her voice overly casual, "Chris, this is Julian."

Chris sizes him up, before smirking. "So what can The Keller help ya with? What exactly are you looking for?"

Julian is confused at first, then he spots the tattoo gun, or what he thinks is a tattoo gun in the slim fingers of 'The Keller' and the tiny jars of ink, he isn't sure what to say.

He looks over at Brooke, and of course, she still has 'that' look. She truly is evil, pure evil. She already knows is going to say yes. Knew it before she even forced him over here. And now he is going to give her something else she wants…the option to choose what is going to scar his body for eternity.

"I'm not sure. Do you have anything in mind, Penny?"

The entirety of her face lights up, and she does a little jump, her happy clap joining in. All of this happens in unison, and he wonders how her small body can be so animated without tearing itself apart.

"I was thinking we could get matching tattoos!"

That definitely peeks his interest, and for the first time this tattoo seems like a good idea. Evidently, his expression is enough to let her know she has his approval, and she lets out a squeal of excitement.

"I was thinking of the coordinates of the place we hung out for the first time, ya know, our spot. Is that okay." It isn't a question, in no way shape or form, despite being worded as one.

He nods. He doubts that he really has any choice or control over this situation. She retrieves a small, wrinkled piece of paper from her back pocket, a triumphant smile firmly on her face. Smoothing out the paper, she shows it to him, awaiting his opinion. He knows at this point it'll crush her if he doesn't like it. He does, but even if he didn't he would lie.

It read 353 59'19"N 783 54'26"W. He just hopes he can replace the hearts with something else, even stars will do. Then she goes on to explain that her hearts will be colored in with brown because he introduced her to mudding, and his will be filled in with blue because she took him to the ocean. Suddenly, the hearts sound like a good idea.

Despite this new bit of information, the same coordinates are still going to be inked on both of them. And he is fine with that. Because the place she had shown him had another co-owner. The place he had taken her to, belonged to him solely, and now her.

Chris seems to be growing impatient, his foot starting to tap, and a very loud exhale leaving him.

"Alright, The Keller doesn't have all night, where do you guys want these tats and who's going to be my first victim?"

"Chillax Kells, we still have details to discuss. I think yours should be in my handwriting and mine should be in yours…?" This time her voice is questioning, and he can tell this part of the tattoos is very important to her.

This moment is too perfect, too much like a movie scene to not reach out and touch her face. So, he does and she smiles.

"Is that a yes?"

"Yes."

Before Chris can verbalize his impatience again, Julian speaks, "I want mine on my arm, as big as possible."

Chris rolls his eyes. "Finally, sit your ass down. Bull Dung, rewrite this thing on a fresh piece of paper."

Julian does as ordered, and watches as Brooke effortlessly writes out the coordinates, but it isn't as loopy as he remembers. It's more like the note she had written him at the top of her number, when she had given it to him.

"Rewrite it, don't concentrate so much this time. Just relax, and do it. I, uh, want it to be loopy." He knows how lame he sounds.

She peers up at him with a small, secret smile and does as requested. He stares off into space as the stencil is made, and suddenly all the complications that can happen occurs to him. The stencil is pressed against his chilled, naked skin, at some point he must have removed his shirt, and the buzz of the gun makes him tense.

"That is a real gun, right? Not a homemade one?"

Chris seems incredibly annoyed and insulted by the question. "Of course! Next, why don't you ask if I'm wearing gloves or if I shaved the area first….or if I am licensed."

"Are you?"

Chris laughs. "No…only to the last question."

Before Julian can object, the needle is inserted into his skin, not just once or twice, or even three times but over and over. He winces at first but the small section that is being assaulted eventually becomes numb, and he relaxes. Though the freeze of the autumn night is becoming annoying. It is finished soon enough, and he almost wants to stop Brooke from doing what he just did. He doesn't want her to have to experience the pain.

But, selfishly, he wants her to branded as his, forever. So, when she tugs his hoodie over her head, messing up her already tangled hair, revealing creamy flesh he certainly doesn't object when she points to the spot she wants branded. Her chosen place is right above her left breast, and he wonders if the detail that it is right over her heart has a significant meaning. He decides he is probably over thinking it.

He messily scrawls down the meaningful numbers, cursing his horrid handwriting. He is about to redo it, but Brooke snatches the paper up from under the pen before he can.

She looks at him as if what he just tried to do was the most terrible thing ever. Even though he knows it's irrational, he buckles under the pressure of her stare and starts to believe the unspoken accusation.

"I, um, just wanted to try to make it better," he defends, lamely, very lamely.

She laughs and grabs his hand from her sitting position. "Julian, it's beautiful."

"But, you can barely read it…"

"Exactly. You, it's you, your handwriting, unhindered. I don't want you to try to make it anything else."

He looks down at her and her eyes are clear. For the first time since they began this little adventure, he thinks about their earlier alcohol consumption. He is pretty sure that he is mostly sober, but he's not certain about her. Her eyes seem…rational. If that even makes sense.

Not that anything really makes sense when he's with Brooke. She always finds a way to disconnect him from reality. And that will be his excuse later when he is asked about this tattoo. Okay, that was a lie. He will most likely grin like a fool as he explains the true meaning behind it. He already wants to bang his head up against something at the simple image of him, yet again, being not only love-sick but love-pathetic over Brooke Davis.

Then, he smiles at the image, because he is experiencing this feeling and it is real and its happening and she is a constant in his life. At least for now. She has made him into a basket case. If he is diagnosed as being bi-polar he is sending the doctor bills to her parents.

He watches as Chris prepares the brown to use later on in the tattoo. The thought of such a bland color on such a vibrant girl doesn't seem like a good idea anymore. He changes his mind when he sees his penmanship embedded in her skin in bright red ink.

JBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJB

Lucas rolls his eyes as Haley paces the small length of his room.

"He…he just left. He's gone and not answering his phone. And he's with her…"

His blue eyes continue to follow her, unsure of how to handle an irrational Haley. She has always been the sane one out the three of them. The voice of reason, the one to keep them grounded. At least for him. And to see her panicking like this, over something so simple, is unsettling.

He stands from the bed and steps in front of her. Too caught up in her own thoughts and rant to notice him until the last minute, they almost collide. Her eyes snap up to his, wide and teary, his hands holding tightly to her waist.

"Hales, Halo. Julian, he's a good guy, but he's stupid as hell if he can't recognize how special you are," he compliments her.

"You called me Halo," she whispers, and he is surprised and a bit upset that, that is what she noticed out of what he said. "You haven't called me that since you became obsessed Peyton Sawyer."

"I, ugh. I guess not, no." He really hadn't noticed, and he feels extremely guilty because of that.

She is clinging to him now, and her tears are soaking his shirt.

LHLHLHLHLHLHLHLHLHL

Nathan is sleeping, and Peyton takes advantage of the opportunity to watch him. She is sitting in the uncomfortable recliner beside his bed, but not even the broken spring in the chair can deter her attention away from the young boy. God, she loves him. So much. Too much.

The room is littered with gifts from their peers. Countless cards are stacked so high on the sink that they threaten to tumble over. Balloons of all kinds are floating around the room. Some are absurd shapes, ones a football, even though it's a school wide fact that Nathan is a basketball player. Most of them say 'Get Well Soon'. However, a few say things like 'Use her sympathy. Get laid.'

But few of the gifters know the real Nathan Scott. The broken little boy that lays behind the winning shots, best party thrower, sex god. The little boy that he has spent years learning to expertly hide. Even she doesn't know him completely yet. He has secrets, scars so deep that she isn't sure he will ever reveal them all to the outside world. But, she plans to stick around for as long as she can, until this love that they have been cursed with no longer has any foundation. Not that it really has one now.

A line from some song that Brooke had made her listen to a few days ago pops into her mind, 'I will go down with this ship.' And she will, because even if there is no saving Nathan Scott, at least not by her, she will stand by him. At least until he finds a not so damaged woman, who can love him completely, show him all of herself without any reservations. Then she will back away, knowing that he is in safe hands, until then she will stay.

She doesn't think it's going to be that simple though. Nathan Scott has become her addiction. He is underneath her skin, apart of her. And she hates him for it. She hates herself for it. It wasn't supposed to go this way.

When he had insulted her hair, her looks, one of the few things she was sure of, it had surprised her how much the insult hurt coming from him. So, she had done what she always did, put up her walls and shot back, only with more venom, with the intention of causing him more hurt than he had her. Then he had to go and ask her on a date. What the hell was up with that?

Not only that, he had denied her the pain she was in need of that night. It was the only way she could feel something other that constant ache. The only way to rid herself of the voices telling her over and over that it was her fault her mom was dead. Instead, he had made her feel even more. Something she swore she would never feel. Compassion. For someone who was just as, if not more, broken than her.

He was Nathan Scott! The guy who fucked your brains out for one night, promised to call you but never did. She wanted that, needed that, and he had failed her. But, he hadn't. Not at all. He, of all people, with his drinking binges and countless conquests, ended up being her hero.

But, it wasn't quite that simple. At least not in the beginning. Nathan still had countless girls all over him, and, of course, their new relationship didn't stop him from resorting to old habits. It was how he coped with his new feelings, having to depend on someone for the first time in his life. He had done everything in his power to push her away, and she had pulled him. Just as he had stopped pushing and started pulling, she began pushing.

Other people came and went from their dysfunctional relationship. There were drinking binges, and Peyton went from being with just one guy to having a list of so many sex partners she lost count. Together, they were toxic. Apart, the thought brought both of them to their knees.

After all that, they are here, in this hospital room surrounded by the smell of death with the knowledge that they have been blessed, though undeserving, with a second chance. To treat this thing they have like it is. Something that is nearly impossible to find in the fucked up world that environs them. Even if the version they have found is demented.

He stirs, looking oddly small in the bed. His eyes open, looking around the room for her. He smiles when he finds her.

"Hey," he whispers.

"Hey." Her voice cracks.

He opens his arms and says, "C'om 'ere." And she does.


	5. Dependents and Saviors

**So, I have yet to do a disclaimer...so here it is. **

**Disclaimer- The title of this story comes from the song Gotta Be Somebody by Nickelback. I don't own Nirvanna (Ch. 3) or Led Zepplin.(Ch.5) Or ' the lyrics 'I will go down with this ship from 'White Flag' by Dido (Ch.4). Neither do I own any of the One Tree Hill characters or settings...such Karen's Cafe and The River Court. The coordinates for Brulian's tattoos are for an actual place in NC...don't remember where though. Um...I think that's about it. **

**Angel of my- Thanks for the feedback! Its to know that you are enjoying the story. :)**

**rachtree- Yes, Julian is very whipped, and Brooke is bringing some very much needed excitement into his life. He doesn't like it when people insult Brooke, because he feels as if they don't really know her. Nathan's decision is revealed in this chapter...kinda. **

**Guest-Thanks! Julian is sweet. Brooke is weary of who she trusts and lets in. **

**Part 5**

"Rise and shine, Jelly Bean!" Brooke's boisterous voice fills the room and his ears, waking him from his alcohol induced slumber.

He sits up, instantly taking note of his aching body. "It's too early," he protests. He looks over at the bedside clock and retracts the words, very gracefully. "Shit!"

She giggles. "Jabby, it's two in the afternoon. Nathan was discharged from the hospital a couple hours ago, Clay picked him up. And now the boys and Peyton are waiting for us at my place."

The words 'for us' don't go unnoticed. When had he, plain old captain of the mathletes, become part of an us? He is, no way, shape or form, taking Haley and Lucas for granted. They both have their own designated places in his life. But, the three of them aren't something you can consider an 'us.' More like a family. They are a family. The best kind.

How exactly would you define an 'us'? Is it a synonym for couple? Best friends? Or goddess and her charity case?

He rubs his eyes, for the first time taking her in. A pair of grey sweat pants hang low of her hips. She either isn't wearing any panties or they are very, very low wasted. He decides its safer to imagine the latter. He is, suddenly, very aware of his, uh, morning wood, which seems to be even more 'woodier' than usual. He is very grateful for the thick comforter because his thin cotton boxers wouldn't be enough to conceal him.

His eyes travel up to her upper half which is completely covered by his hoodie. He isn't sure if that's a blessing or curse. He'll decide that later.

He, soon, discovers it's a curse because his imagination goes crazy with all the possibilities of what she might or lack thereof be wearing underneath. He clears his throat, and she lets out a humph, annoyed at his silence. She throws a tube of cream at him.

"Put that on your tattoo. And hurry and get dressed. I wanna go see Clay!" She is shaking when she shrieks the last part, as if she is a tiny volcano erupting with excitement.

He picks up the tube of A&E anointment, looking up her perplexed. She rolls her pretty eyes, a smile accompanying the infuriated action. She crawls across the bed, rather seductively, and he thanks God for the covers shielding his lower half. She sits, her legs folded underneath her, and takes the tube from him. He is entranced by her, studying her expressive face as she concentrates on the task at hand. Her tongue and bottom lip alternate being between her teeth, as if they having some sort of silent argument over who deserves the privilege. Personally, Julian thinks he deserves it.

There is no denying the feel of her fingertips, he has memorized the feel of them despite the small number of times he has experienced it. The freeze that accompanies them this time is a great contrast from the usual warmth and occasional coolness.

He jumps in response to the unexpected sensation. She pauses in rubbing circles over his left bicep.

"Sorry. It's the ointment. It's a have to, for your tattoo. If you want to keep it looking spick and span," she apologizes, nervously. Her eyes are downcast, but his are still trained on her. He runs a hand through her freshly washed, wet hair.

She looks up at him, her hand continuing its circular movements. "You need to put some of this on your tattoo," she instructs, holding up the tube, "to keep the new tat moist, for the first three to four days. Then switch to unscented lotion. Avoid direct contact with water. Like baths and swimming. Wash it with antibacterial soap…ONLY while showering because there is no other cleansing option. It will start to peel in a few days, do NOT pick at it. If you don't follow these instructions, Chris will kill me. He takes his work very seriously…and well you are his canvas and it looks awesome now, but ultimately its your job to make sure it stays that way."

He smiles and places his hand over her covered heart, where her tattoo is. She grins. He imagines what the finished product of her tattoo must look like. His mark on the creamy skin of her breast. Her whimpering as he runs his fingertips across the bare flesh, kissing it, sucking on her…

"Do you want to see it?"

He nearly, no, he does choke on his spit.

He watches, hypnotized, seeing that she grabs the hem of his hoodie. His breath catches at the first sight of her bare flesh. The grey sweatshirt slowly inches up her abdomen, breasts, neck, face, then its on the floor. She is nude, waist up. She grasps his hand places it over her scarred skin.

"This belongs to you now, Julian. Forever."

"Julian? Hello?"

"Huh? What?"

She giggles, and unfortunately the hoodie is still in place. "Would you like to see your tattoo?" She asks again, retrieving a decent sized hand mirror from beside her on the bed.

With her help of positioning the mirror, he gets a good look at his tattoo. Its not something he thought he would have gotten, not that he ever considered himself a tattoo guy. Yet, its perfect. The sand brown loopy letters and ocean blue circles are a great companion, or at least he hopes they are, to her red and brown.

"Ya know, you're pretty hot," she comments, absentmindedly, her slender fingers trailing along his bare torso.

He shakes his head, dismissing her compliment.

"No, seriously. Have you looked at yourself? Look at these abs and arms…wow."

He is blushing, most definitely. And his erection is even more prominent. And then, oh fuck, she begins to tug the hoodie over her head. This time its really happening. Believe it or not Julian is not crazy, he does know the different between fantasy and reality. This is reality.

She is covered only by a black cami. "What do you think?" She asks him, and just like last night, his opinion seems to matter.

"It's beautiful," he assures her.

She smiles. "So is yours, in a manly way, of course."

She stands from the bed, and throws some clothes at him. "Get showered and dressed, Jelly Bean. No direct water contact. Use antibacterial soap. Pat Dry. Thin layer of A&E ointment. If you want I'll put it on."

He examines the clothes, skinny jeans and band shirt…skater. "Who's…"

"Chase's. Don't worry, they're clean. Now, hurry. Shower." She shoos him into the private bathroom.

He closes the door behind him and studies the jeans some more. How the hell is he supposed to get his penis in them?

JBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJB

Despite having the reputation of being a hard ass, when Clay walks in the front door of the Davis home, Nathan's first instinct is to run into his arms. But, the disappointed gleam in his dark blue eyes keeps Nathan glued to his spot on the couch, next to Peyton.

He feels the slim fingers of his girlfriend run along the top of his hand. It isn't until then he notices how tense he is. Her touch, no matter how fatal it has proved itself to be, always keeps him grounded.

Clay steps aside, revealing a short blond girl, who must be his latest 'friend.' She is nothing short of a vision in a simple pair of hip hugger shorts and grey t-shirt. The sweeping motions of Peyton's fingers stop. It appears that she has noticed his appreciation for the other woman.

This perplexes him, because it wouldn't normally bother her. He isn't exactly known for being a one-woman man. But, they both know that something has shifted between them. She had seen him at his weakest, his worst. Seen the side he had inherited from his dad. Yet, she is still here. Beside him, but no longer touching him. At all. In fact, she has even put space between them so their legs are no longer touching.

He knows. He does. He knows what she needs, wants. And he so badly wants to give it to her. Its such a simple action. He just has to shift a little to the left and close the gap she had created. The action would tell her everything her can't say aloud. Tell her that he is hers, only hers. That the girl standing in the doorway means nothing, exactly like all the countless others over the last year.

But, he also wants to stop playing these games, wants her to stop testing him. So, he holds onto his pride and doesn't scoot over. He hears a breath leave her, indicating that she is metaphorically marking his test with a F.

"So, a lot has happened since I left last year, huh." Clay is the first speak, letting his shoulder bag fall to the floor with a thump.

"Guys, this is Sara. Sara, the ugly fucker is one of the two trouble magnets I told you about," Clay says casually, his voice like butter, able to reduce any woman to goo. He maneuvers through the room, and Nathan knows where he is headed.

Sara smiles at him. "This might sound cliché, but I've heard a lot about you and Brooke. Clay brags and worries about you both constantly." She runs a hand through his hair. Her touch feels warm, loving, motherly.

Sara turns her attention to his girlfriend. "And you must be Peyton. I apologize for Clay's rudeness, he's not usually like this…"

Nathan snorts, earning him a light blue colored glared. "Okay, maybe he is. But not this bad. I mean, usually he would include you in the introductions," she revises.

Peyton dismisses it with a wave of her hand, assuring the older girl that she isn't insulted. Over the past year, Nathan has learned it is difficult to deter the girl, also that he is very good at it. Especially, when he doesn't want to be.

Hesitantly, Nathan urges himself to stand from the couch. His hand gripping the arm rest, his butt hanging over the edge as far that gravity will allow. His discomfort reunites Peyton's hand with his skin, this time his knee. The black nail polish has started to chip along the edges, revealing the jagged ends of her fingernails.

He notices this small detail, when she pushes the bottom of his Ravens basketball shorts over his knee, just enough to scrape the skin with her nails. It isn't a loving action, at least to most. It is familiar, comforting, and he feels the dread of his upcoming conversation with Clay decrease a bit.

The thin, blond vixen just had a way about her. A way with him. A way to be able to morph and sculpt him. Build him up, shatter him. Effect his very being with a simple look or touch. Maybe one day that won't bother him. But, today it did, even if did help soothe his nerves.

So, when she scoots closer, he uses that as his initiation to stand, or jump, from the couch. He has hurt her. He doesn't have to look at her to know. The honesty of her pained eyes is scorching the back of his neck until he leaves the room, even after.

It isn't until he reaches the glass doors to the guestroom balcony that he feels relieved of the stare. Just as the warm air engulfs him, he is surrounded by a rare peace.

As predicted, Clay is out there, leaning against the railing, a can of soda in his hand. His dark eyes look up from the smooth wood floor and they are confused.

"What happened, Nate? I knew things were bad, but I never expected you to do something like that. Why didn't you call me?" His voice is almost like a hum, a welcome exchange for the silence Nathan had wanted moments before.

He shrugs. "I don't know. Why does anyone do anything? It seemed right at the time. It was the only option at the time, or at least that's what I thought."

"Nate, there is always at least two choices."

"Yeah," Nathan replies.

"So, this Peyton chick? She a good girl?"

A smile tugs at the corners of Nathan's mouth. "Yeah, yeah she is."

"I'm assuming she's the reason behind your lil' alcohol feast. But, I also heard she is the one who found you, and saved you."

Nathan tenses at the mention of 'that night.'

"She's still not my favorite person, but Nathan, don't push her away. If she actually has that much power over you, she's worth it dude. And she saved your stupid ass to boot. She is definitely a keeper, Scott."

"Yeah…" Nathan agrees, lost in his own conclusions of exactly how much the moody girl meant to him.

"Maybe, you should consider going as far as getting a ring. I'm sure there are a line of guys waiting…"

"That sounds…" Nathan trails off.

"Crazy, absurd, stupid, insane, mad…" Clay hurries to finish, afraid that Nathan had taken him seriously.

"Sappy as hell. Peyton would bag me if I did something like that."

Clay snorts, then laughs sardonically. "You guys sound like a such peachy couple. We should double date sometime."

Nathan's entire face breaks out into a shit-eating grin. "So, that fine piece of ass, in there, is your girlfriend. Clay Evans actually has a girlfriend."

Clay's dark blue eyes narrow. "Don't call her that…"

"What, fine piece of ass or your girlfriend?" Nathan teases.

"Both," Clay growls.

"Oh my God, you like her. Actually like like her!" Nathan sounds dangerously close to Brooke. At least until, "have you fucked her yet?"

"Real mature, Scott. Seriously. You've matured drastically since I last saw you. It's overwhelming."

NSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNS

Brooke is rummaging through his drawers, something he has learned to expect from her. She is a naturally curious person, and just like a cat, she allows her sense of adventure to take over, way too often.

After he picks out an outfit to replace Chase's monstrosity, with the help of Brooke, he heads to the conjoined bathroom to change. He examines the outfit and realizes its identical to every other outfit he wears. A white undershirt with blue plaid shorts. He dresses himself, takes a moment to comb his unruly wavy hair, brush his teeth, before returning to his room.

The first thing he notices are the scraps of materials on the carpet. Black lace, jean, and something that looks familiar, too much so. Yep. She had cut up his prized Ravens Mathelete t-shirt from sophmore year. It was the first school shirt to print the name 'Baker' on the back.

Julian tears his eyes away from the scraps, and focuses on the reason for the massacre. It is unquestionably worth it. Brooke has made Chase's jeans into a ridiculously tiny pair of shorts. They are just a little big on her, but tight in the butt and thigh area, at least the very little thigh they are covering.

Her black cami has been reduced to one fourth it's original size, and is tantalizingly showing itself through the large arm wholes Brooke cut in his shirt. The best and worst part is that its obvious she is braless. Well, maybe not obvious. Unless, you're Julian. And you study the space between the cami and shirt whenever she moves.

"Come on, Jabby. We should have been gone, like, ten minutes ago!"

She doesn't offer any apologies for destroying his shirt, not that he expected one. It looks better on her, anyway. The only complaint he has, is that it doesn't show her tattoo. Maybe that's a good thing, considering he will be meeting Clay for the first time. Who is basically her big brother. Julian doubts he would take kindly to Brooke being tattooed.

JBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJB

Peyton and Sara have been sitting in silence for a while. Its comfortable to Sara, but she is used to the quiet, prefers it. She doesn't know how the teenage girl feels about it. Whether it relaxes her or not.

Clay had assured her before they left, that his friends would adore her. But, apparently, his crystal ball had been broken. Then again, Peyton doesn't really count? Does she? She seems nice enough, in all her…brooding glory beautifully wrapped in a red leather mini-skirt, and a Led Zeppelin band t-shirt.

"So, you and Nathan, huh?" Sara attempts to start a conversation.

Peyton mumbles something in response.

"Hmm. That sounds nice."

Peyton snorts. "Is Clay good in bed?"

Sara looks over at the slightly younger teen, genuinely shocked. "W…what? No!"

The girl raises an eyebrow, unfazed by the conversation. "He's not? What a shame. So yummy, but no skills."

Sara can feel heat burning her cheeks. She might be nineteen, but more than likely has less experience in the bedroom than any high school virgin.

Peyton isn't sure why she is being such a bitch. It is obvious the girl sitting next to her is sickeningly sweet. Maybe that's why. Sara represents everything Peyton isn't. Beautiful, innocent, perfect. An angel. The savior that Nathan needs.

The cheerleader curses herself. "You guys haven't, ya know, had sex yet?"

"I, um, well…no. We haven't," Sara stumbles over her words. "We're just friends." Those words come out confident and even.

"Bullshit."

"Excuse me?"

"I said bullshit. Ya know…calling you out on your lie."

"I'm not lying…"

Peyton humphs. "Dude, he was loaded down with bags when he came in here, and still opened the door for you. And I'm pretty sure that purse you were holding isn't super heavy."

"I…mybagsarestillinthecar," the woman barks back, as if she says it too slow she'll chicken out. And Peyton is pretty sure she would.

"Chill. I just said that he's whipped, not that you're actually holding a whip. Sometimes the stupid asses hold their own leashes."

Sara laughs, and Peyton joins her.

SPSPSPSPSPSPSPSPSPSP

"17 year old singer and song writer, Miami, was pronounced dead at 1:32 this morning, after a bad car accident. We will have more details later. Such a sad story, isn't it Larry?"

"Certainly is, Harry."

Brooke turns the radio off with a sigh. "That's sad. Didn't she have a baby or something?"

Julian nods in agreement. The topic is forgotten when they pull into her long driveway. Peyton's infamous red Comet is blocked in by a Chevrolet Corvette Sting Ray.

Brooke barely gives herself time to put pressure on the break, before scurrying out of the vehicle and inside her house. Julian hurries to catch up. For having such short legs, she sure can move fast when desired.

She swings the door open, eyes in search of, undoubtedly, Clay and Nathan, but Peyton and a strange blond girl are the only two occupants of the main room.

Clay, followed by Nathan, walk into the room. Brooke rushes into the college boy's arms, who in turn wraps his arms around her in a tight grip. Before any pleasantries can be exchanged, Nathan speaks, his voice distant and sounding much like that of a small child.

"My daughter. She's being kept in foster care right now. Temporarily, at least if I am willing to take on full custody of her."

A silence unlike any other that Julian has ever experienced falls over the room, wrapping itself around everyone in a vice grip.

"Miami…?" The question is spoken, but Peyton isn't sure by who. The answer is what devastates her, what matters.

"is Mia, yeah." There is no denying the sound of Nathan's voice.

Peyton looks around the room. Brooke is clinging to Clay, leaning all her weight on him. Nathan is standing close enough to Clay for their shoulders to touch, his face ashen. Sara is sitting on the sofa, unsure of what to do with herself. Julian's eyes are fixated on Brooke and nothing else.

And Peyton suddenly realizes how much of an outsider she really is. That despite being Nathan's girlfriend, and Brooke's 'other' best friend, that, that is exactly what she is, the 'other.' Not the main.

"Can you give me a ride, Clay?" Nathan asks. The decision has been made. He is going to be a father to a baby. Or were 11 month olds considered toddlers?

"Yeah, sure." The answer is awkward.

"Brooke, you wanna come?" Nathan invites her, and the cheerleader nods.

"Can Julian come?"

Nathan nods. Peyton finally thinks she understands. Nathan and Brooke both depend on Clay. Brooke carries Nathan when no one else is around. And Julian has recently come out of nowhere to be her savior.

But, where does Peyton fit into all this? She isn't quite sure she wants to know the answer. Especially when the foursome head towards the door, and Nathan still hasn't acknowledged her. And he leaves. Just like that. And she feels like she is losing everything. Or maybe she never had it.


	6. Rice Peppa

_**Well, I know it's been a while, but I hope this chapter makes it worth the wait. **_

_**Callison- Thanks! Writing Brulian is so much fun, and is surprisingly effortless. It kinda just flows from my fingers while I'm typing. I just love it. They are OTH OTP**_

_**Guest1 (June 2)- Yes, things between Neyton are definitely going to change. Thanks!**_

_**Guest2 (June 3)- Thanks! Here's an update. **_

_**rachtree- Wow, I truly enjoy your reviews. They are awesome. And the criticism, awesome! I love compliments, I do. Really! But, constructive criticism is good too. Things are explained a bit in the next part, but maybe not. You might just get more confused. **_

_**Guest3 (June 15)- Nathan being a father is big. Brulian are adorable and pure fluff. That's why I love them. **_

_**Okay so basically, I'm not sure if you remember but a couple chapters ago there was a flashback of when Neyton first had sex, and their first kiss was mentioned...well...just remember that. **_

_**Alrighty, happy reading Brulian and Neyton fans. :) **_

_**Part 6 **_

The car ride is silent, except for the occasional heavy breath, but even those seem far and few between. It almost seems like everyone is holding their breath. And Nathan wants someone to say something, anything. Even if its just to say how much of an ass he is. Which he already knows.

_May 3, 2002_

_The heels of her hands press against the bottom of her eyes, gathering up any escaped moisture and smeared make up. That was his Mia. Never allowing herself to fall apart. Not completely. Never completely. _

"_You're with her." Her voice. The same angelic voice that had sung him to sleep so many nights with promises of a family, now sounds so betrayed. _

"_I'm with a lot of girls, Mia. But, I…I'll stop if that's what you want. If that's what it takes for us to be a family." His gaze flickers down to her swollen stomach, but her next words return his attention to her face. _

"_No, Nathan." He knows he should interrupt her, say something super romantic, but like the train wreck he is, he watches as his life, once again, goes off the rails. "Its not girls. Its Brooke. And I wouldn't, I couldn't ever ask you to give her up. Because, she is you." _

_He remains still and silent, unsure of how to respond. "We're not together," he finally finds some sort of words. _

"_Maybe not. But, you're not, not together. Ever since I told you I was pregnant, I've felt like the best friend watching as you and Brooke plan for the baby you two are having." She pauses, and in that moment Nathan knows everything he has dreamed of the past month and a half has completely slipped through his fingers, and he hates Brooke, so much. "I'm not just a surrogate, Nathan, and I refuse to continue to feel like one." _

_She turns around, graceful as ever, even when five months pregnant, and shitting all over his heart. A decent guy would offer her a ride home, but he's drunk. His shoulders slump. A decent guy wouldn't have brought his pregnant girlfriend to a wild party. _

_He stumbles through the few people on the back patio, pushing himself through the glass doors. His first destination was the keg, but then his attention is drawn to a familiar laugh._

_But, it's not Brooke who thoroughly catches his eye. He has too many unresolved issues with her. Too much emotional baggage. It's her companion that thoroughly draws and keeps his attention. _

"_That guy. The one who made the winning shot, he was pretty hot."_

_He staggers up the stairs, nearly falling into the petite, skinny blond. She looks up at him disgusted, but that doesn't stop him from turning on his Scott charm. _

"_I was the winning shot," he brags._

_She raises an eyebrow. "You made the winning shot, huh?"_

"_No, I am the winning shot."_

_She wets her lips, and looks him over, a smirk on her pretty lips. "Well, then, you must have had a drastic make over."_

_Brooke giggles, and he glares over at his friend, or whatever she was nowadays. _

"_Nate, Jake made the winning shot tonight." _

_He is about to retort, but the dimpled girl is gone. Maybe its for the best, but he can't help but miss her presence. Later, he'll try to blame that for his next action, then he'll blame the alcohol. He'll even go as far as pathetically blaming Peyton for looking at him 'like that.' _

_But, the reason doesn't matter. What matters is that he does it, and it happens. And that her lips are on his, her body plastered to his, and so not soft in all the right places. So unlike Mia and Brooke. Different. _

_Their lips separate, and suddenly his mind changes and he decides that her body is perfect. And that is what makes him say no to her next question. _

"_Do you wanna continue this…elsewhere?" Her green eyes are dark with lust._

_Her long, slender fingers running along the front of his covered chest. That's when he takes note that she has artist hands. She must draw, and if for some reason she doesn't, well, that thought breaks his heart. _

"_No," he says, softly, encasing her hands in his, playing with her fingers. "You have drawing fingers."_

_He feels her tense, but she doesn't move away. He goes back over his words, realizing that they hadn't come out exactly the way he wanted them to. Drawing hands? What the hell? Not even hands, fingers. _

"_I mean, they're sexy, ya know what, do you want a drink?" _

_She chuckles and says, "yes."_

_He leaves and doesn't even bother seeking her back out. _

The next day, when he went to Mia's house she was gone, as well as any trace of a baby girl.

It isn't until they pull into the parking lot of the government run organization, that the silence is finally cut through by Nathan's bitter laugh. In a matter of a year, he had managed to sleep with the only three woman who ever meant anything to him, only to push them all aside. Brooke for Mia. Mia for Brooke. Brooke for Peyton. And Peyton for countless sluts and selfish intentions.

He had been so lost sophomore year and the summer after, grasping onto anything and anyone who would allow it. Brooke was there, of course she was. But, he needed something more than her dimples and the occasional one night stands.

Then Mia popped into his life, with her warm brown eyes and never ceasing smile and sassy mouth. And they created a baby. A life. Something good. But, Brooke. He couldn't take on the responsibility of a little girl without her, so he clung to her like he always did when he was scared.

And suddenly, he had everything. His Mia, Brooke, and daughter. Granted, there were times he found himself imagining a life with Brooke, but then the hazel eyes would darken, and the breasts would enlarge just slightly, and it was Mia. He needed it all, all three of them.

And then all in one blink, he lost it all, only to regain it in the form of a sarcastic blond.

NNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN

Brooke watches, worriedly as Nathan walks down the hallways, winding corners only when instructed to do so. He seems to be lost in his own mind. Entrapped by demons from the past. She knows exactly how it feels. It feels as though everything she has worked so hard to let go of has hit square her in the chest, and she can't tear her eyes away from it. Worst of all, it's her own eyes that are looking back.

FLASHBACK

_June 2, 2002_

_It's there, in his eyes. Undeniable betrayal and heartache. It physically hurts to see him in so much pain, but she forces herself to not look away. She doesn't even allow herself the luxury of pulling the covers tighter around her when her grip tightens on them. _

_A sharp breath fills her lungs, and her bedmate sits up, the blankets pooling around his waist. Nathan's hands are balled into fists, and her official second sex partner is also on the defense. _

_All of the occupants of her vanity are pushed onto the floor, crashing with the sound of breaking glass. She cringes and can only watch as her boxer clad lover stands from the bed. _

_Nathan's nostrils flare, the veins in his neck pulsing. His clouded blue eyes flicker between the two of them. _

"_I…I can't believer either of you would do this, to me." _

"_You slept with Taylor!" _

_He gapes at her, then shakes his head in disbelief. "Are you really trying to compare this to one of my sluts?" _

"_Brooke, this is Owen! How could you do this? After I…" He trails off, his eyes turning cold as if just now taking in Owen. "God, Brooke, getting two Scotts in five months, that's gotta be a record."_

_And she knows he's not talking about getting into their beds, but their hearts, and she feels disgusting. Like scum. Because it's so palpable that she had indeed had Nathan's heart in the palm of her hand. That's what she wanted, right? To know for sure, before she jumped blindly. She just thought he would be this shattered. _

_Perhaps, she had convinced herself that he didn't feel the same way, or that even if he did, he was invincible. And that tomorrow they could back to the way they were before Mia or his kiss with Peyton. But, that isn't going to happen. Not now. And she doesn't want it to, because she doesn't deserve it. _

_That's why, the next day she invites Peyton over and continues to go out of her way to make sure Nathan and the blond are together at every opportunity. _

They stop in front of an office numbered 175, and Nathan clutches her hand. She is taken back, again, into the past.

_March 16, 2002_

_She comes home from cheer practice that evening, skipping the plans the squad had made for after, anxious to see her boyfriend. Yes, Nathan Scott, her childhood best friend, was her boyfriend and had been since February 12. She swings open her front door._

"_Omg, Natey! We are so totally going to regionals! Like, you have no idea!" _

_She is expecting his warm embrace any moment, but it never comes. So, she closes the door and kicks off her sneakers. _

"_Nathan!" She calls for him, but receives no response. Sighing, she climbs the steps with her sore legs, wishing that her boyfriend was there to carry her like he has for the past month and a half. _

_Entering her bedroom, the first thing her eyes land on is Nathan. He is on her bed, looking small on her oversized king. Before she has a chance to speak, he says something that destroys the fraction of foundation she has. _

"_Mia's baby. It's mine."_

"_But, she said…"_

"_She was lying." _

"_Oh." _

And just like now, he had depended on her. No matter how unfair it was, is. They enter the small office like room, hands still clasped together, Clay and Julian trailing behind. They are met by a young woman, maybe in her mid-twenties. Her eyes are sympathetic. Maybe because of the recent death or how young Nathan is.

"Who are you here for?" She asks, her voice professional, and Brooke gives her kudos for not coming out and saying any names.

"Um, Rice Peppa Catalano. I'm Nathan Royal Scott. Her father." His voice is shaky, and his grip on her hand tightens.

The red headed social worker smiles, and requests an ID. Nathan curses, hurriedly apologizing after, as he fumbles with his wallet. The young woman raises her eyebrows.

"I know I'm only sixteen, but I am emancipated. The only reason I still live at home is cus my mom. I have skills, like work skills. Not sure what they are, but I have some. And…"

"And he and Rice are gonna move in with me. I mean, I'm basically the little girl's uncle, and I'm majoring in psychology, so…" Clay pipes.

"It'll be like having a live in therapist," Brooke adds, quickly.

The social worker smiles. "I'm sure she'll be just fine."

Brooke looks over at Nathan and watches as his face crumbles.

"I mean with you, Mr. Scott."

As if having been waiting for those exact words a preteen girl appears from the back room, struggling with the weight of a bag. She is soon followed by a young man, a tiny girl in his arms.

Brooke hears Nathan gasp beside her. She is the spitting image of Mia, from the bee stung lips to the thick dark hair. But, the eyes, they are Nathan's.

He isn't sure how to position his arms when the man moves to hand her over to him. She is far from the size of a newborn, but still so small. He doesn't have much time to maul over it because soon she is in his arms, and screaming. Her tiny face is turning red, and he begins to panic.

"Can she breathe? She can't breathe!"

Clay quickly takes the small child from his arms, and she slowly silences. The male employee offers him a smile.

"Trust me man, you'll get the hang of it. It's scary at first, and it'll feel like you're doing everything wrong. But, you're not. I promise. Because, you're here and trying."

With those words, the four, now five of them leave the room. They are half way out the building before Brooke begins one of her panic attacks.

"We don't have a car seat or booster seat. Whatever it is we need."

Clay rolls his eyes. "I have one in my trunk. One of my friends at school has a kid."

Brooke lets out an audible breath, and Nathan wants to shake her for making this situation even more stressful.

"Here, Nate take your daughter so I can pop the trunk and get that seat." His blue eyes widen, taking a step back when Clay moves closer to him. "Look man, if you're gonna do this parenting thing, you're gonna have to hold her, eventually. Now, would be good."

Julian steps in and offers to take the baby. Clay gives Nathan a disapproving look when he agrees.

Brooke shuffles from foot to foot, unsure of whether to fuss over the baby and how sexy Julian looks with her, or add fuel to Nathan's pity party. She sticks to just standing where she is. But, her and Julian share a private look, one that leaves her entire body feeling warm and her heart racing.

A few curses float through the air as Clay struggles with installing the car seat. It is obvious he is frustrated at the lack of Nathan's help. It certainly doesn't help when he hits his head on the way out.

A loud "fuck" leaves his mouth, just as a middle-aged couple is passing them. The four young adults all avert their eyes to the ground, except for Brooke, who laughs. Julian joins in.

The private moment doesn't go unnoticed by Clay, and slowly a smile begins to tug at his lips, but it doesn't become full fledge until another laugh joins in. All eyes go to the little girl in Julian's arms, amazed by the broad smile on her small face.

Brooke, completely lost in the moment, hurries over to Rice. "You think that's funny, huh? Does Jabby have a funny lookin' face?"

The little girl's toothy grin leaves her breathless, and the fact that Nathan could have had this moment with his daughter sooner, if it hadn't been for her, makes her uncooperative lungs become defective. Then, she realizes that Nathan isn't even apart of this moment. He is merely an observer.

She looks away from the 'tiny Mia' and back at Nathan. His blue eyes are foggy and so similar to the night he had caught her with his older brother. Rice makes a grunting noise, as if protesting the sudden tension.

Clay, as always, takes control over of the situation before it all goes to hell, and retrieves the little girl from Julian. Subconsciously, Brooke steps closer to Julian, and one of his hands lift to rest on her bare bicep.

NNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN

Her eyes are like green acid when he walks in front door. They are…he isn't quite sure what emotions she is struggling to conceal. But, she is failing miserably, or maybe not. Because he sure as hell can't tell what she's feelings.

Brooke is the last one in the house, and also the one holding his daughter. Apparently the sight does something to Peyton because her stance changes, shoulders tensing, eyes narrowing, lips tightening. Nathan looks back at his best friend. Is that what Brooke is, his best friend? Whatever, whoever she is, she is holding his sleeping daughter, Julian standing close behind her.

Apparently, she isn't the official last one, but nowadays Brooke and Julian are basically one being. The look in Nathan's eyes must unnerve Julian because he steps closer to Brooke, as if to protect her.

Nathan rolls his eyes. Brooke notices the action, and grabs Julian's hand preparing to drag him upstairs.

"I'm gonna put Rice to bed…"

Sara jumps up from the couch, apparently looking for an excuse to escape the room. "I hope you don't mind, but I found a playpen in the attic, and set it up in one of the guest rooms," she looks down at her feet, quiet, "I just assumed that we'd all be staying here tonight, but I shouldn't…"

Brooke shakes her head. "No, Sara, what you did…that's awesome! Really, it is. Thanks."

The blond looks around. "Um, where's Clay?"

"He went to get dinner."

The older woman seems lost, so using her free hand, Brooke grabs hold of her lightly. "Come on, show me what room you put the play pen in."

With a hazel colored glance over her shoulder, Julian is following close behind as the four of them ascend the stairs.

NNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN

Nathan's eyes trail over Peyton, taking her in. But, he doesn't so much as take her in as she is now, as envision as she might be in the future. He imagines her red mini skirt longer, looser, flowing around her knees in the spring breeze.

Her Led Zepplin shirt, though, has to stay. But, he isn't quite sure it would look good with the skirt he's envisioning. Let alone with a pregnant stomach. Do they make baby doll band shirts?

He shakes his head, clearing it. No. She is wearing a black t-shirt, with the bones of her ribcage on it, and the skeleton of their baby. And a long, billowing, red skirt?

"Nathan!"

He forces himself out of his fantasy, right away noticing his girlfriend's disgusted face.

"You have a boner! Nathan, really? What the hell?"

He did? He does? What the hell? "Marry me." The words just spill out, and he doesn't want take them back. At least, not until, he sees her reaction.

"Really?! You…you lied to me, Nathan! The entire time we've been together, you've been lying. And not about some other girl, though that would be pretty bad, but a baby. A living, breathing baby. YOUR baby, with another woman."

He hangs his head, not having a worthy response.

"And you actually…you cared for her. The mother? Didn't you?"

He closes his eyes, and inhales, feeling as if it may be his last breath. "I, yeah. Yeah, I did."

She begins to pace. "Your daughter, she's eleven months old. Therefore conceived in December. So, she wasn't even born yet when we fucked! That night, had you just left Mia home alone to throw a party? Was I just another whore to you?"

He feels a familiar burning begin in his veins. "No! Okay. She was gone by then!"

"Gone?! So you, what, left her?"

"Fuck, Peyton. She left me. She fucking left me!"

"When?" There's a conviction in her voice that lets him know that she already knows the answer. Why she wants to drag this out, he isn't sure.

"The same night we kissed."

"For the first time?" Her voice has lowered, some of the anger having left, making room for pain. "And?"

"And?"

Her nostrils flare, chin jutting out, jaw tensing, and throat struggling. It's obvious that she is on an emotional high. "Nathan, there is something else. It's not all coming together."

"Brooke." It comes out so simple, plain, and casual that he wants to shoot himself.

"Brooke?"

He isn't quite sure why she is making him come out and say it. Maybe to torture him for hurting her, or herself for falling in love with him. Or perhaps because of denial.

"She's the something else, Peyton."

"Oh. You cared for her, too."

He shakes his head, closing his eyes unable to bear her cold ones.

"You loved her. You were in love with her. And you used me as a form of healing. You couldn't have Mia or Brooke, so you settled for me."

"No! I needed Mia, Brooke, and Rice as an unit to be completely happy. With you, all I need is you! I mean, it's like you're all three of them."

She scoffs. "Great, that's just great. So, if one day I change, just a little, you'll stop loving me? Or do you even love me now?"

"You don't get it. You're nothing like them, at all!" He knows he's not making sense, and basically calling his previous words a lie, but he's never been good at this expression shit. Confessions of love and corny speeches. But, he needs her to understand. "I mean, Brooke is like summer, and Mia is like spring. And you're…an unexpected thunderstorm in the middle of winter on the coldest night, and in the morning there's this beautiful, flawless blanket of snow. At least until a cat pisses on it…and I'm the cat."

So, he just said he was cat piss, and that she was pure white snow. Awesome, Scott. Perfect.

She laughs, and he isn't sure if that's good or bad. "But, you're also the circumstances I need to become that thunderstorm."

"Exactly…"

"But, snow can also be formed with a simple rainfall with the right temperature."

He isn't so sure he likes where this leading. So, what does it matter than technically snow can be made in a simpler way? Simple is boring. But, of course, he doesn't know how to say any of those things.

"I…Peyton?"

"And cat piss isn't as noticeable on green gas as it is on white snow."

Okay. So Brooke is summer, and summer has green grass. Shit. Why does he even try, really? He should have just grabbed her and kissed her when she pointed out his boner.

He begins to panic. "No, no. Okay. I need you, Peyton. I can't do this alone. I'm sorry that I used to love Brooke and care about Mia….and that I have a daughter."

He hears her sigh. "Nathan, none of those reasons are why I am upset."

Fuck! She is talking logically. Calmly, like a mature adult. They didn't do that. Not together. But, what the hell is this logic? He isn't seeing it. He is pretty sure certain that Peyton has been in love, or at least cared about other guys before him.

"Then why?"

"Because, you lied to me. But, mostly because I'm not so sure of your feelings for me anymore."

If he isn't such a stupid ass, this is the perfect time to tell her the reason for his earlier hard on. But, he's sure he'll fuck it up, just like he did earlier, with what he considered to be a damn good declaration of love, and push her even further away. So he remains silent.

"So, I want you to ask Brooke out."

He misses a few words somewhere between her assumption and her…requirement? Did he have to do this in order to get her back? So, does that mean they're on another break?

"Wait, what? You want me to ask Brooke out?"

"No…"

"Okay…"

"But, you have to."

"What the fuck?"

"I need to know for sure, Nathan."

"Know what?"

"That you want me."

"Why are being like such a….girl?"

"A girl?"

"Yeah, ya know, like the ones you see on damn soaps and shit."

Something like that isn't supposed to be voiced, no matter how loud the thought is, apparently.

"Why, because, I don't want to just have make up sex?"

"The reason for my boner was cus I imagined you pregnant," he blurts it out, and it's the ultimate definition of word vomit. Where the hell is his Scott smoothness?

"That's…disturbing?" Her voice lifts at the end, questioningly. And something in her eyes gives away that she is rethinking her decision of leaving him.

Who knew that his attempt at a love speech would push her away, and his word vomit is making her question pulling away. He still doesn't know shit about love.

She seems to know that he senses her weakness, when he steps towards her, and she darts to the door.

"I gotta get home. I have homework. You're gonna be a great father, Nathan."

"But, without you?"

"I, uh, yeah. Without me." For now. Its unspoken, but its there, on her hopeful face. And its louder than the actual articulated words.

But, he doesn't tell her that. Because, he isn't that stupid and he does know the basics of how Peyton ticks. At least he thinks so. Right now she is on edge, and he is the only one holding the thin rope keeping her from falling over, even if she insists on doing it herself. It would deadly if he allows her to do so, because its not possible for a person to be their own leverage. And he quite likes being hers. Even if he does a shitty job sometimes. Most of the time.

NPNPNPNPNPNPNPNPNPNPNP

Rice is flat on her stomach, fast asleep, snoring softly. Brooke finds it nearly impossible to tear her eyes from the small child. So tiny and innocent. Now motherless.

Julian comes up beside her, his large hand on the rim of the play pen alerting her of his presence. She looks over at him, and they lock eyes.

"She doesn't look anything like Nathan," he muses.

She nods her head in agreement. She certainly is all Mia. Her tanned skin, full lips, unusually thick hair given her young age. Mia.

"Perhaps we were given the wrong one?" He questions, voice light and humorous.

She glares up at him, elbowing him in the side. He narrows his eyes right back at her, fingering at his ruined shirt.

"Ya know, I kinda liked that shirt," he says, tugging at the shoulder.

She frowns, pulling away from the pen and looking down at herself. "I, uh, do too…?" She responds, with an innocent smile.

"Brooke, you completely massacred it!"

She gapes at him. "No, I didn't it. I just altered it."

He snorts. "Yeah, well, it's certainly not something I'd wear, so just keep it."

He turns away from her, running a hand through his untamed, wavy hair. She does the same, run her hand through her hair, that is, only to be reminded of her stupid messy bun.

"I, uh…" She hurries out of the room.

JBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJB

Brooke, now alone in her room, with the door securely locked, is racking her brain of who she could possibly call. Haley, the pretty tutor hated her. Lucas, he was just creepy. Mouth, yes! Totally yes!

Clapping happily, she digs her phone from her pocket, only to realize she doesn't have his number. Hell, she doesn't even know if he has a cell phone. Not knowing, or caring whether Peyton is still in house, she dials her number.

The moody artist answers, and her greeting is curt.

"Yes?"

"Hey, P. Sawyer, could you give me a ride somewhere?"

JBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJB

Peyton glances over at her best friend, curious as to why they absolutely have to go to this River Court, and why it has to be right now. And nobody can to know, especially Julian. Her friend's infatuation for the mathlete is so obvious she wants to punch the brunette.

It suddenly occurs to Peyton, that by presenting Nathan with the ultimatum she had, a devastating trail of broken hearts could be left. She can already see it playing out in her mind. Nathan will ask, Brooke will say no out of loyalty, her ex will say it's the only way to get her back. Brooke will agree, sympathetic with Nathan, but feeling betrayed by Peyton.

Julian will be devastated, and Brooke will be as well, because he is the first guy she has liked, since Peyton has met her. And then Nathan will hate her for hurting Brooke. But, none of this will be told to her, because Nathan's date with Brooke has to look real in order for her to take him back.

But, if she does take him back without him doing what she asked, there is the chance of living a lie for many years. She looks back over Brooke, wishing now, more than ever, that she could confide in the peppy girl.

That old taunting thought from the not so distant past makes it self known. People always leave, or does Peyton push them away? They reach point B, and Brooke hurries out of Clay's car, which they had taken without permission. But, according to Brooke reason, it was the only vehicle not blocked in and they just didn't have time to ask. And Clay would understand. Yeah, Peyton is sure he would.

Apparently, it didn't occur to Brooke that Peyton had driven there, but the blond wasn't, and isn't in the mood to change her CD, having it set on a specific song.

PPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPP

Brooke skips/runs up to Mouth, nearly giving him a heart attack by screaming his name.

"Okay, Mouth, I have an emergency. It's Julian!"

The young boy's eyes widen, and he stands, quickly. "What…is he hurt?"

"Oh no. But, his shirt…" she motions towards her torso, "is, badly."

He looks at her, strangely.

"Basically, I need the jest on what Jabby likes, doesn't like. Ya know? Lettermen jacket?"

Mouth scrunches up his nose, and Brooke quickly dismisses the idea. "Alright, no go."

"He does like Grease 2."

"Does he like it, or looove it? I mean he has to love it, like really, really love it."

"I'm pretty sure he does."

"How can you be so sure?"

"Besides the fact that I'm one of his closest friends," he offers that explanation, but her expression remains expectant. Julian is going to hate him. "He watches it every weekend. At least four times."

She gnaws on her bottom lip, before a smile takes over her entire face. "Awesome!"

PSPSPSPSPSPSPSPSPSPSPSPSPSPSPS

Peyton literally feels the car shake with Brooke's weight when she gets back in. She is a bundle of nervous energy, her dimples embedded so deep they might tear permanent holes.

"P. Sawyer, we need go to Joann Fabrics! Now!"

Peyton restarts the car, though pauses in putting pressure on the gas. "Why do you want me to go with you?"

"I, uh, I just thought you'd want to go," Brooke shrugs. "It's just been a while since we've had girl time, with the Nathan thing, then Julian, and now the Nia baby."

"Nia? They have a name?"

Brooke waves her hand, as if dismissing it. "Yeah, but Neyton sounds so much better." She smiles. "But nothing beats Brulian."

Peyton raises an eyebrow, before pulling away from the family park. "Brooke Davis, your logic is…"

"Logical?" Brooke offers.

"Sure."

_**Lame ending, I know, but I was stuck on how to end it...so I guess you could say I just cut it off. Sorry. I thought about adding a Breyton confrontation...for numerous reasons, but that's going to be saved for later. Because, trust me, after everything piles up, its going be inevitable, especially with both girls being so strong willed, independent, and stubborn, not to mention insecure. So yep this is my cya later note to you. Have a good day, afternoon, evening, night, whenever it is that you happen to be reading this. :) **_


	7. Falling Apart and Coming Together

_**So, I haven't received any reviews for chapter six, yet. But, I decided to post this anyway. Remember it's reviews that spur me on, and keep the creative juices flowing. So...things start to change a bit in this chapter. I suppose you could call this chapter the beginning of a snowball rolling down a big hill, or the unraveling of a ball of yarn...not sure. Perhaps both, because I am going to have create the web of drama, and then slowly untangle it. Anyway, I really hope you enjoy. **_

**Part 7**

It is Friday. Julian has officially spent an entire school week with Brooke Davis. Except not. Because they aren't in school, and today they are with their respective best friends. Watching Lucas play doesn't provide the bencher the same joy it used to. Ever since last Monday, Julian has this new urge to stand out, and to be close to Brooke because she does so effortlessly.

And after spending over half his life in Lucas' shadow, Julian isn't sure what to do with this new desire. His male best friend has always been a loner, making sure to stay on the outside looking in, which meant Julian was pretty much trapped inside himself. But, Brooke, from day one, which is less than a week ago, yet seems like years ago, managed to coax him out. Well, not exactly. Dragged would be a better verb.

Haley, fully clad in a simple pair of jean capris and navy tank top, showing as little skin as possible for a tank climbs out her older sister's car. Her shoulder length honey blond hair is pulled back into pig-tails, and he watches as she awkwardly walks onto the court, her sneakers clashing with her outfit.

Her brown eyes widen when she spots him, and he feels guilty for criticizing her appearance and his absence. Her pace quickens and soon she is beside him on the picnic table. Her tiny, dry skinned hand is on his shoulder, and he relaxes beneath the familiar touch.

Their eyes meet and they both smile. By her expression, she has let go of her anger. But, there is something in her eyes, barely concealed by a blanket of happiness. He places his hand on her thigh in hopes of banishing it, but it becomes more evident.

"Hey, Hales," he greets, unsure of whether to remove his hand or not.

"Hey, Jules," she returns, doing the same to his name.

His eyes trail over her tanned skin, taking notice to the goosebumps that follow after his gaze. He scrunches up his forehead, his eyes going back to hers.

"Are you cold?" He questions, already pulling his hoodie over his head before she answers.

It is late in the evening. Around six, last time he checked his phone for a text from Brooke, only to be disappointed. In North Carolina, mid-late August days are always hot and evenings cool, as if the weather can't make up its mind.

She shrugs, the movement followed by a nod moments later. He hands her his plain black sweatshirt and she takes it, examining it. She looks confused.

"Where's…"

"Brooke has it," he answers before she can finish. He figures he might as well get it out before tension has a chance to build between them. But, by the look on her face, it already has.

"You never even let me…" Her voice seems to catch in her throat and he follows her eyes. She has spotted his tattoo. Her small hand reaches out and skims it slightly, mouth open slightly. "Julian?"

"I…" He can't find the words to explain his reason for getting the tattoo, let alone brag as he planned. "I was drunk." It's not true. At all. Well, it is. Sorta, but he will do it all over again, sober. He just can't stand to see Haley cry. Especially because of him.

Her gold eyes narrow, her hatred for Brooke shining dangerously. "I knew she was trouble."

His first instinct is to come to the bubbly girl's defense, but he refrains from doing so. He wonders when and how Brooke had managed to make herself first in his life. Before Lucas, even Haley. But, sitting here with Haley reminds him of the many reasons she is his best friend. Her protectiveness and concern for him being two of the main ones.

"She's a good person, Haley."

She sighs, her pain so observable his heart drops. "Can't we have one conversation without mentioning her?"

He doesn't point out that she was the one who had brought her up, however she hadn't. Brooke has just become so entangled in every aspect of his life that every question Haley has asked so far, Brooke is apart of the answer. So, he pulls the small girl against his side, sighing.

"How's school, Hales?"

He feels her shrug. "Not the same without you."

He smiles at the indirect compliment. Then frowns. "Yeah, but not even I, the great Julian Baker, can take away Haley James' love for school. It's just not possible."

She laughs, and he feels the vibration. "So true. Lunch is lonely without you, though. Lucas is always so quiet. You're right, he is always serious."

He chuckles. "Whenever am I not right?" It's a joke, but he can feel the essence Brooke creep over them.

He pulls back from her, pivoting on the wooden furniture so he facing her directly. She remains facing forward, but that doesn't stop him from cupping her face and urging it towards him.

"Haley. No matter who comes and goes from my life, girls, boys, you will ALWAYS be my best friend. First and foremost. Nothing and no one can change that," he promises.

"Not even Brooke Davis?" She questions, her insecurities bright in her eyes in the form of unshed tears.

He smiles. "Yes, even Brooke Davis." As soon as the words build in the back of his throat, he knows he has begun a tangled web. But, even if Brooke has managed to worm her way into top position, Haley will always follow close behind, if not be equal.

JHJHJHJHJHJHJHJHJHJHJHJHJHJH

Mouth watches, way beyond the point of being uncomfortable, as Brooke digs through 'her Jabby's shit.' They have been there for an hour, give or take, because after watching Grease 2 for five minutes, which, in her terms, is forever, it isn't an acceptable solution. Forget the fact that Mouth has known Julian for nearly half a decade.

"This is, it's an epic failure. And, he's with her. Isn't he?" She demands, and he knows if he doesn't come up with the correct answer, he might die. "I mean, I haven't heard from him, in two hours."

She glances down at her wrist, glaring down at the bare skin. "Marvin, what time is it?"

Before he even has a chance to respond, she begins talking again. "God, he is with her, isn't he. He has to be!"

The sound of muffled voices enter their area of hearing, and his eyes lock with her wide ones. She is panicked, and he doesn't know why. Julian isn't going to care, he is too infatuated with her. But, when she presses her index finger to her glossed lips and slips into his decent sized closet, he prepares himself to lie. Lie? To his long time friend, for a strange girl? God, what was with Brooke Davis?

Julian and Haley push through the bedroom door, laughing loudly, oblivious to his presence. Momentarily, he smiles because he knows how Haley feels, but now, he also knows how Brooke feels. And that Julian returns those feelings. And his friend has never been the brightest bulb when it comes girls, not that Mouth has any room to talk.

The lanky boy clears his throat, effectively stopping the laughter, and earning two sets of eyes.

"Have you heard from Brooke today?" The question escapes before Mouth can stop it, and by Julian's expression he hasn't.

Haley seems to spot the mention of the other girl as an opportunity to let her darker side come out. Her pretty face twists nastily, as she grabs Julian's arm and angles it towards him. "Look at what that airhead made him do."

"Hales…" Julian's voice is weak, and Mouth shakes his head, not realizing he is doing it.

"What? Don't say my name like that, Jules. And Mouth, you, don't shake your head, that way. Julian told me, himself, that he was drunk when it happened."

Mouth looks over his friend over, gravely. "There has to be more of an explanation than that," he says, hoping that Julian reads between the lines, and realizes that he is pushing for more of an answer, a much different one.

The memory of Brooke's dimpled smile, as she raved about her and Jabby's matching tattoos is still vivid in his mind. He can almost feel her heart breaking.

Julian opens his mouth, Haley's brown eyes looking up at him, and Mouth's male friend looks at him helplessly.

"I…I don't really remember, but I doubt she forced me."

The bald cypress wood closet door opens, a flushed Brooke being revealed painfully slowly.

Julian runs his eyes across the small brunette, the consequences of his words not setting in right away. Not until he locks eyes with her, the hazel sirens dark. His mouth dries from the inside out, and he licks his lips, feeling as if he is dehydrated.

She doesn't blink, once, at least it seems that way. Bending down, her straightened hair falls from behind her ears. It isn't until she resumes standing, he realizes she had reached into her bag, because a ball of material is thrown at him, followed soon after by another. He doesn't risk taking his eyes from her, knowing that she is a flight risk right now.

She moves out of the closet, but doesn't go much further. Thinking that she is offering him a chance to explain, he steps towards her, and away from the exit, giving her what she really wants. She moves around him, and as if sync with her, he turns when she turns, grabbing the sides of her arms, and pulling her against his chest.

He feels her tense against him, and the sight of Haley's crestfallen face, makes him do the same. Without realization, his fingers trace lightly down Brooke's arms, stopping right above her elbows, before wrapping his arms around her middle.

The one-sided embrace doesn't last long, and she is soon running from the room, her flip flops smacking against her feet causing an absurd noise, with the flurry of her motions.

A suffocating tension settles over the room, and Julian looks over at Mouth, who has been forgotten until now. His sky blue eyes are on Julian's face, a classic human emotion in the too big circles, compared to his skinny face. Yet, the emotion is unfamiliar to Julian, at least shining from those eyes, at him. Its disapproval and shock. As if Mouth is seeing him for the very first time.

Mouth clears his throat, the deep rumbling a great contrast to his thin frame. "So, you were drunk, huh?"

"I, uh…" Julian starts, unsure of how to finish, glancing over at Haley.

He looks down at the worn carpet, lets out a breath. "Yeah, I was. But, I…I wanted the tattoo. Brooke has a matching one, actually." He pauses and searches the top of his dresser for the A&E ointment she had given him. Lovingly, almost as if he is touching her, he rubs some of the savge on the dry tattoo. "The numbers…they aren't just random. They are the coordinates for our spot."

The room is eerily silent, before a chuckle breaks it, a smile nearly splitting Mouth's face.

"Do you have any idea how…messed up that sounds?" Mouth asks.

"What do you mean?" Julian answers with his own question.

"You say one thing to Haley, to prevent from hurting her…" the shorter boy's voice is leery at the end of the statement, "then wait until after Brooke leaves to say what you really should have said all along, unless what you're saying now is the lie."

"Is that all it was today, Julian? All your promises of how I would always be number one in your life, were they really all lies? That nothing was going on between you and…and Brooke?" Haley's voice is borderline pleading. For what, he isn't sure. That's a lie. He does know. She wants the truth, a specific truth. A truth he isn't sure he can give.

"They weren't all lies. I do like, Brooke, a lot. Okay, I care about her, a lot. But, you will always be my best friend. And nothing can or will ever change that, Haley." His words don't seem to satisfy or give her the comfort she is seeking.

"I…" she doesn't continue, and he is torn in whether he wants her to or not, because by that single breathless syllable something has shifted.

He knows the secrets dancing in her eyes the last few days are currently on the tip of her tongue, slowly being pushed back into her beaten heart with every breath. And like the coward Julian is, he decides to let them slip back into place, leaving her to suffer alone.

JBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJB

Peyton is driving around, aimlessly, the sunset far behind her in both time and place. Music is blaring from her fried speakers, and momentarily she regrets giving Nathan back his subs. But, keeping them is asking for unnecessary contact.

Of course, she hadn't thought of that, at first. Not until he showed up at her door, asking for his speakers back. She simply handed him the keys to her Comet and slammed the door in his face. Apparently, that hadn't been the response he was wanting, so he did unlock her car, only to tuck her keys safely in the passenger seat. And left the speakers in the trunk. Of course he did. The bastard.

That is, why she is driving around the streets surrounding Tree Hill, making sure to not return to the main roads. Because he is so infuriating, and she is so pissed off she can barely see straight. Hoping to get the same reaction from him, she had tossed the stupid mother fucking subs from her trunk, and onto his large front lawn. He hadn't been home at the time, and for that she was grateful.

Because, her action had steered her back onto the path, what one she isn't sure. The right one? Wrong one? Whichever one is it, it's certainly gonna achieve in eliciting a retort from her estranged lover. Which, is the last thing she wants. Right?

So, when her phone begins to vibrate in-between her thighs, and she risks glancing down catching sight of the unmistakable "ass" written across the screen, she doesn't answer. But, she does. And, damn is he pissed.

"Fuck Peyton! Are you crazy? I paid five hundred bucks for those things!"

Apparently, he has forgotten that merely four hours ago, he had been at her door groveling. That's what she loves about him, his ability to transition, to morph with her without being afraid of breaking her. They are like two pieces clay, who mold willingly, continuously into forms that don't quite fit, but compliment each other.

She snorts. "I guess I am fucking crazy, after all, I fell for your ass, didn't I?"

"You were crazy way before we even met." There is a joking hint to his voice, and she hates it because she is smiling, for the first time today.

"Have you asked Brooke, yet?" She asks, clearing her throat.

She hears his sharp intake of breath, and can practically see his hopeful face fall.

"I, no…Peyton," he pleads.

"Ask her. I'll replace your speakers as soon I can," she interrupts, pressing the end button with force, her sweaty finger leaving a mark on the touch screen.

NPNPNPNPNPNPNPNPNPNP

Hazardously, Brooke pulls in front of Nathan's house. There is fire in her veins, and she is on the verge of…some sort of break down. She's torn between sobbing and scratching her own skin off. She stops in her desperate steps towards her best friend's house, because said best friend is on his front lawn growling, and beating the crap out of his most prized possession.

She stares for a moment, not sure how to approach him. Before, she can, he looks up at her, his blue eyes wide and wild. The tire iron being held over his head, slowly lowers when his elbows begin to shake, then he is completely on his knees, howling. She is too stunned to do anything but stand there, then the tire iron falls to the grass with a dull thud and she is rushing over to him.

His brown polo is soaked with sweat, his face wet with a mixture of tears and sweat. She struggles to wrap her arms around the entirety of him, as he seems to be having an internal battle about whether to cling to her or not.

His words are coming out in gasps between sobs. "Mia…Rice…Peyton…you…love…" are the ones he appears to want to be heard. So, she listens, repeating them, every time he does.

"SShh. Natey. It's okay. I'm here, then, now, and will be. I love you."

He tenses at her words, but another sob shakes his entire body, causing hers to do the same.

NBNBNBNBNBNBNBNBNBNBNB

Peyton kicks, angrily, at her flat tire. The chill of the night is finally starting to creep into her new reality. The reality where Nathan is no longer her boyfriend, and possibility won't be again. And where Brooke might not be her best friend.

Suddenly, the blond detests her converses and band t-shirts. Because, Nathan had, once, or many times, confessed that's what he loves…loved, about her. Her ability to be different. She had always shot back that she didn't do it because of that, and he retorted with 'I know, and that's why I love you.' But, it hadn't been a retort, even if Peyton had told herself otherwise, then, there is no denying the true meaning now.

Like countless times, she begins to do something she never thought she would, because of Nathan fucking Scott. Tear her clothes to shreds. She starts with her shirt, her shaking hands gripping the tight necked collar, before tearing it jaggedly down the middle. She begins to shrug it from her body, intent on doing a more thorough job, when headlights momentarily blind her.

She can almost, no, she can hear, Nathan reprimanding her for being alone in the dark on a secluded road, half naked. She closes her eyes, telling the imagery boy to fuck off, but he only smirks and tells her that she should never do something like this again, at least only with him there to 'protect her.'

"Hello, are you alright?"

Peyton's eyes snap open. "Uh, yeah. I'm just fine."

The young boy doesn't look convinced. "Have you been…assaulted?"

She glances down, wrapping the torn shirt back around herself. "Uh, no. Just…a lil stressed."

He moves out of the headlights, stupid fucker must have on his brights. "Well, that's good to know. Do you need a ride somewhere?"

"No," she says, icily. She wants him to leave, to be in peace again.

He doesn't receive the hint though. "Don't I know you from school? I do. You're a cheerleader…on the cheer squad," he says, more to himself than her, it sounds.

She snorts. "No, I'm a cheerleader, on the golf team."

He chuckles. "I'm Jake. I, uh, play with your boyfriend," he stutters, then groans at his words, clearly realizing his unintended innuendo. "I mean, we are on the same basketball team."

She smiles, despite herself. "I know. You were the one who made the winning shot at the homecoming, sophmore year."

He laughs. "Yeah. I guess I was. Your boyfriend wasn't too happy about that." She frowns.

A quiet wail sounds from the car, earning the boy's complete attention. The cry has the indistinct traits of that of an infant's, and has Peyton following Jake hesitantly over to the open car door. She peers over his shoulder at the small baby, the only indignation that she is a girl being her pink onesie.

After having a pacifier returned to her mouth, the young baby seems content and her eyes begin to droop. Jake turns on his heel, nearly knocking Peyton off her feet. His hands, warm and rough, against her bare skin, settle on her waist, under her torn shirt to steady her.

"That's Jenny, my daughter. Who, I should be getting home."

She backs away from him, without hesitation, but regrets it not long after, not immediately, though.

"I know you don't need a ride, but do you want one?" He offers her help, once again.

She goes over his question in her mind, as if sucking on hard candy, twirling it around, trying to decipher if the flavor is satisfactory. Finally, she nods.

He smiles, the light of the moon and headlights accenting his features. He isn't what you would call a looker, but he's cute.

JPJPJPJPJPJPJPJPJPPJPJPJPJPPJPJP

Julian, for the twenty-second, or was it the twenty-third time? Either way, he is dialing Brooke's number, only to delete it before pressing send.

He gets lost in staring at his wallpaper, a picture of a smiling, unaware Brooke, that he nearly jumps out of his skin when his phone goes off. Even though it's not her ring tone, he allows himself the luxury of hope.

_Im cumin to NC 4 cupl wxs xplain everything ltr_

**_Did ya like it, hate it, love it? Please let me know in a review. :) _**


	8. Where and Who We Used to Be

**This chapter is a bunch of flashbacks, kinda explaining how everyone ended up where they are now. It is a must read in order to understand the story, unless you're really good at problem solving and filling in blanks on you're own. It's lacking in Brulian and Neyton, sorry. **

**Um, there is a bit of sex, specifically two scenes...ones a bit rough and uses graphic words, but isn't as detailed as the Neyton love scene in an earlier chapter. Um, another is more...well the two are completely different. **

**Callison- I feel bad for Brooke too. Thanks!**

**justemi59- here ya go. **

**rachtree- Nathan, in this story, doesn't really know how to stand on his own. His identity is basketball, and he bases his self worth on how many girls lust after him. Neyton are crazy, both apart and together. Thanks so much!**

**Guest- Peyton's request is bound to create some drama, but she is feeling insecure and is acting on impulse, I guess you could say. **

_**There is completely random, and pointless, and most of you will probably skip this, but here are some songs that I think fit the couples in this story. **_

_**Neyton- 'Over and Over' by Three Days Grace, 'Just the Girl' by The Click Five **_

_**Brathan- 'The Last Time' by Taylor Swift**_

_**Brulian- 'Crazy for This Girl' by Evan and Jaron, 'She's so High' by Tal Bachman **_

_**Jaley- 'Outta My Head' by Daughtry **_

_**Jeyton- 'Crush' by David Archuleta **_

_**Julian/?- 'I Got U' by Leona Lewis**_

_**Clara- 'Nothing on You' by B.O.B ft. Bruno Mars**_

_**Laley- 'The Gummy Bear Song' **_

**Oh and please remember reviews=inspiration=writing=updates. :) **

**Part 8...Happy reading!**

**November 12, 2001**

Brooke watches from afar, unsure of the feeling that has recently taken residence in the pit of her stomach every time she sees Nathan interact with the squad's newest member. Even though she has no doubt in her mind that she has a seat at Nathan's lunch table, it is heartbreakingly obvious that Mia has claimed her usual spot, beside him. And worst of all, he doesn't seem to mind, or even notice.

After standing there for a few moments, another occupant of the table waves her over. Having been spotted, she has no choice but to head over, that's one of biggest down sides of popularity, the mere sound of one's name and the entire room searches for you.

She hangs her head, trying to shield her face with her hair, something she normally wouldn't do. Lately, though, she had been the school's favorite topic, Nathan and Mia being a close second. Once, at the table and surrounded by the many faceless she calls friends, she takes the only seat available, across from her best friend.

The giggling and in good fun mock cheering of her team mates, and the cat calls and whistles coming from the basketball players as lowerclassmen pass invade her ringing ears. She looks up from her tray at Nathan and Mia, the sun causing her hair to shimmer.

The older girl is a couple jean sizes smaller than Brooke, yet still manages to maintain natural feminine curves, more so than her. Her breasts are obvious in every shirt she wears, and her lips, just wow. Her brown eyes, normally such an ordinary and plain color, shine with every emotion. And, the worst and best of all her features, is her hair. The way it falls down her back in natural waves without her even trying. Brooke knows, first hand, believe it or not, she has attempted sleepovers, and of course Nathan ended up at every single one of them.

And it's because of that very reason, she both loves and hates Mia Catalano. Especially since when Brooke wakes up after these said sleepovers and showers, and leaves her hair natural, it dries into fizzy waves.

"Brooke, hey! Where were you?" Nathan finally acknowledges her, and she feels like crying, because she has been here for at least twenty minutes, considering lunch is nearly over.

She simply shrugs. "I..I had to go the library. Had a report…due next period. Ya know me, always waiting til the last minute." She forces a laugh, and when he smiles, she realizes that not one person at this table knows her, not even Nathan, not anymore, therefore no one does.

**November 14, 2001**

She looks so sad, so broken, so not Brooke Davis. And his heart aches as he watches her drudge down the hall. He wants to grab one of the many people who flock after her, yell at them to actually pay attention. But, they are all too engrossed in their juvenile high school relationships and drama to care. And, well, he doesn't have the courage to do it.

His locker slams shut, and he jumps, but he smiles when he sees who's behind the metal door, his best friend Haley. She smiles that smile that makes everything better. One arm full of text books, he uses his other to pull her against his side.

"Sixth period? You have English, correct?" He asks, making sure to use an overly proper voice when using the word 'correct.'

She slaps his chest, lightly, but he knows she's smiling. "Yes, as a matter of fact I do, Julian. And, you have a free period."

He rests his chin on the top of head, nodding. "Yep, sure do."

He kisses the top of her head, coming to a stop in front of her class. She beams up at him, and he tweaks her nose.

"Cya after school, Hales."

"Karen's?"

"Always."

She turns around to enter the classroom, but turns around abruptly. "That'll never change, right? No matter what?"

He sighs. "Haley…"

"I just, I mean, eventually you're going to start dating…"

"Halo, you will always be my number one girl." He seals the pretty words with an Eskimo kiss.

**December 4, 2001**

It is two hours after the big game, and Brooke is nowhere to be found, leaving Nathan alone with Mia. They are sitting side by side in her backyard, and the moon is bouncing off of her hair, as if they are in a battle of who's brighter and worthier of his attention. He quickly decides on Mia's chocolate colored hair, and he wonders how it would feel between his fingers.

So, he puts his thoughts into action, and fiddles with the end of a single strand. She turns towards him, not at all looking shocked. There is a soft smile tugging at the corners of her lips, and he wishes he can freeze this moment. But, then their lips are touching, skimming tentatively repeatedly, before Nathan tangles his hands in her tresses, molding their mouths together.

She tastes sweet, her arms awkwardly wrapping around him. He isn't sure if her uncharacteristic clumsiness is from inexperience or discomfort, so he pulls back, mating their foreheads. Her dark eyes are hooded, lips even fuller, swollen from his kisses, cheeks pink, and desire surges through him.

"Mia, we." She presses a finger to his lips, shushing him.

"I…I want this," she says, shakily, but when their lips reunite, her doing, the new confidence she has contradicts the sound of her voice.

He knows, really he does, that this is wrong, in so many ways. She is a virgin, she doesn't have to tell him for him to know. It's obvious in the tension of her body when he pushes her into the grass.

"Mia, if we do this…we can't…this is all its gonna be,"

She nods in understanding. "I know."

But, he's not sure she does. She reaches for the button of his jeans and he lifts his hips, wordlessly. Her sparkly blue polished nails struggle with the button, and faster than he will like to admit, he becomes impatient, pushing her shaking fingers away.

He's done with faux tenderness and pretending to be a guy he's not, so he starts his post-game ritual, a post-game fuck. He just never thought Mia would be nothing more than this. But, he knew eventually he would find a way to mess up their friendship, like everything else in his life.

Soon his zipper is down, and he is standing with his pants and boxers at his ankles, her laying on the dead, brown grass, mouth gaped open. She looks as though she wants to say something, but he doesn't give her a chance, because he tackles her, forcefully claiming her mouth.

She tries, but fails to keep up with him, but her sexy whimpers make up for it, almost. He pushes her winter-coat off of her, nearly breaking the zipper in frustration. She sits up, using her thin, shaking arms to support her, apparently in an attempt to assist in stripping her, but only makes it harder.

He growls, harshly pushing her down. "I can't take your arms out of the sleeves like that," he hisses.

Her dark eyes widen at his venomeness voice, but cooperates. A sickly puke green sweater is the next layer of clothing, and he doesn't even bother with the buttons, he rips it. She gasps, and he can see the movement of her chest when she does, as the only thing covering her is a light yellow cami.

He looks up at her. "No bra," he whispers, gravely.

Up until now he has been semi-hard, but now he has grown, significantly. She wets her lips, those full, kissable, swollen, pink lips. His hips buck into hers, a silent groan leaving him. He crashes his mouth to hers, hand hurrying under her thin garment in search of…found it.

She moans into his mouth when he brushes the pad of his thumb across her nipple. Her legs snake around his waist, bringing his naked, straining dick to her covered vagina. He rolls her nipple between his fingers, before pinching it.

She arches into him, her body brushing his, deliciously. "Amazing," she chokes out.

He smirks, taking his hands from her body. Her eyes snap open.

"Sshh," he commands, and proceeds to strip her of her tiny top, and sweat pants. He frowns, then smirks. "No panties either, huh?"

She blushes, all the way from her boobs to her pretty face. He chuckles, reaching between them to check if she is ready. He tips his head to the side, not all that shocked that she is drenched. That means he can escape the chore known as foreplay.

"You sure?" He questions her one last time. He might be a player, heartbreaker even, but he isn't a rapist. He knows how important virginity is for girls, so he always gives women one last chance to back out. Even if they almost always say 'yes.'

She nods, and he takes that as his cue, driving into wetness also driving in the fact that he is a coldhearted bastard. The grimace on his friend's face says it all. Mia is his friend. He had just deflowered his friend, outside in the cold, on the fucking cold, hard, ground. But, nothing will change that now, so he figures he might as well get something good out of it. Even if it is just another orgasm.

**December 6, 2001**

Both Brooke and Mia have been avoiding him all day. Neither of them showed up for lunch, and he misses them immensely. Which leaves him frazzled because he isn't supposed to notice someone this much, need someone this much.

He locks eyes with Brooke during a passing period, and she captures her bottom lip between her teeth at the sight of him. He starts towards her, but she swerves the corner and into a crowded hallway. He intends to follow her, but sees Mia in the corner of his eye. She has textbooks pulled tightly to her chest, and he can see one of many bite marks he had left where her scarf has fell a bit. And he hates himself just a little more.

**January 13, 2002**

There's a knock at his door, a very familiar one in its rhythm and softness. He knows who it is before he opens the door, still seeing her, there, highlighted by rays of the moonlight and the single streetlight on the block, leaves him both breathless and speechless.

She looks nervous, shifting from one foot to the other, before finally looking up at him through her slightly overgrown bangs. When had she gotten bangs?

"Nathan, it's a bit cold out here, so if you're not gonna let me in…I'll just be…"

He shakes his head, opening the door just wide enough for her to squeeze by him. In all honestly, he's not sure what to say to her, his life long best friend. He hasn't seen her, really actually seen her in nearly six weeks, and he wonders if she is here to yell at him for being so careless. And he really doesn't care, because she is here, in his living room, and his parents aren't home so the house is silent, which is rare.

"I, uh, what are you doing here?" He tries to sound, well he doesn't know how he tries to sound, but it certainly isn't cold and accusing.

Her hazel eyes, wide and watery, look up at him, her arms folding protectively across her chest. "I, um, I heard, about ya know, Mia and figured…you might need a friend."

Did she hear about him violating the poor girl or the supposed pregnancy? He wants to shake her and demand she explain further, but he doesn't.

"Ya know, the baby and how it's not yours and everything." She sounds so nervous and childlike, her hands now clasped together, fingers fiddling with each other.

His mouth goes dry. "The baby…it's not mine."

Her expression changes from one of nervousness to guilt, anger, doubt, then sympathy and her arms are suddenly wrapped around his waist. He stands there, stiff, unsure of how to react to her embrace, considering he hasn't been touched like this, by her or anyone in so long.

"I'm sorry, Nathan." Her apology is muffled by the material of his shirt, and without even realizing he returns the hug, one hand threading in her hair.

She sighs and relaxes, leaning into him and the weight of her is both strange and proverbial, kind of like the first few notes of a favorite song, from the past on the radio. And once the first word is sung a ton of memories hit you all at the same time.

"Don't be. I missed you," he mutters.

She nods, and he can tell she is holding back tears. And he hates the fact that she feels as though she can't cry in front of him. And that he knows her walls are justified, but he absolutely despises that he is the reason she feels that way.

She nods against his chest, whether it be in simple acknowledgement or agreement, he's not sure.

"I'm here. Then, now, and will be. Always." it's a whisper, but he hears it as clearly as the last buzzer at the biggest game of the year.

His heart aches at the truth of her words, because he knows, in the end, he's going to hurt her, more than he already has. And he is far too selfish to be the one to leave her, and she will never leave him.

**February 3, 2002**

He has no idea how they ended up here, on her bed, half-dressed, him hovering over her, the only light a small desk lamp. But, Nathan can't bring himself to care, not when she is looking at him like that, as if he can move mountains and holds all the answers to her problems.

Her auburn hair is fanned out on the feather pillow, her naked chest heaving as she struggles to pull in air. She has the tiniest love handles, nearly nonexistent, and he takes notice of this when dragging her dainty panties down her pale legs, the last of her clothing.

Now on his knees, he grips her hips, rubbing his thumbs over the small curves of fat, loving the softness. His eyes venture between her tightly closed thighs, and his hands soon follow the path of his gaze to gently pry apart her legs. He feels her tremble and looks up at her, in question. She looks petrified, and he runs his fingertips across her inner thighs, hopefully reassuring her.

"You're…beautiful," he whispers, and again, she trembles. But, this time when he glances up at her, she has her eyes closed.

Her pubic area is completely natural, untouched, but clearly clean and the hair soft when he skims over the outer labia. Her hips lift, just a little, in response to the light touch, and, again his eyes are drawn to her face.

He wants to take his time with her, to do it right, even if its just this once. So, he touches her, really touches her, exploring every crevice, memorizing every noise and facial expression and what causes them.

He actually finds himself annoyed when she attempts to push his boxers down, but one look at her determined face, lip tightly gripped between teeth, brow furrowed, eyes narrowed as if she is trying to perfect the latest cheer, his heart melts.

After taking a few moments to slip on a condom, he is inside her, claiming her as his, forever branding himself as her first.

**March 4, 2002**

Nathan and Brooke have fallen into a predictable routine, one they both find comforting after not having a steady home life. But, its more than a simple, stupid routine, so much more. He loves the way she laughs, and at times becomes lost in just staring at her.

Today is her sixteenth birthday, their one month anniversary, and the day after the anniversary of their first sexual union. Sexual union? What the fuck is wrong with him? And since when does he remember stupid things like anniversaries?

He forces all of that in the back of his mind, and refocuses his attention on the task at hand. Making today as awesome as possible. Looking down at his phone, he notices that it is 2:04. She is going to be here, very soon.

Here being the beach, the same spot they have been returning to since childhood. But, its different now and its noticeable every time he interacts with Brooke. They are…together. The word 'together' seems too infantile to describe them.

He hears the squeal of his name, just in time to open his arms for Brooke to catapult into them. Her soft lips press against the side of his neck, as he manages to maintain his balance.

"Natey!" Even her whispers seem to come out as exclamations.

He breathes her in, before releasing her. "C'mere, I got something to show you."

Before she can say anything, he takes her hand, and leads her over to where he has spent hours carving their initials, in the side of what Brooke likes to call her 'tanning ledge.'

She beams up at him, and he knows, for once, he has done something right.

**March 16, 2002**

After not having contact, of any kind, outside of school for three months, Mia shows up at his house just as he is on his way to Brooke's. When he sees the look on her face, his smile vanishes and he stops swinging the key ring around his index finger.

Despite passing her in the hall many times during school, and sharing a lunch table with her, he has never really paid attention to her expanding stomach. But, now, with her a mere four feet away, the minor swelling is hard to miss under her formfitting cashmere sweater.

"Nathan, the baby is yours."

NBNBNBNBNBNBNBNBNBNBNB

He sits on her bed, the mattress giving way under his weight. He can't, won't but has to believe that he is going to be a father. He hears her beautiful voice call out to him, but doesn't respond.

Her small feet padding up the stairs echo in his heart, and he wills her to turn around and to never come up. But, she does and he can tell she is concerned, by the sound of her small, nearly inaudible gasp.

"Mia's baby. It's mine." He doesn't raise his eyes, his head remains hung. He can't bare watching the physical reaction of his words.

"But, she said…" Her voice is desperate, reaching for hope that isn't there.

"She was lying." It comes out crueler than he meant, but he can't handle her pleading. She needs to face reality. He has.

"Oh," she says, resigned. That's better.

**May 3, 2002 **

Tears fill her eyes, but she refuses to let them fall. Not for him, not again. Especially not in front of him. Infuriated, she uses the heel of her hands to swipe a few escapees away, pressing the hard bones against the bottom of her eyes, unsure of which hurts more, the pain she is inflicting on herself, or the ache she has felt since meeting Nathan.

"You're with her." She's not accusing him, at all. How can she, when she already knows the answer?

"I'm with a lot of girls, Mia. But, I…I'll stop if that's what you want. If that's what it takes for us to be a family." He sounds so genuine, and he believes his own words, she knows. He is with many girls, including her. But, he is only _with_ one girl.

"No, Nathan." He looks shocked by her words. "It's not girls. It's Brooke. And I wouldn't, I couldn't ever ask you to give her up. Because, she is you." The words are painful to say, and her throat is raw.

"We're not together."

"Maybe not. But, you're not, not together. Ever since I told you I was pregnant, I've felt like the best friend watching as you and Brooke plan for the baby you two are having." She pauses, because she knows her next words to Nathan, are going to be her final ones.

NMMNMNMNMNMNMNMNMNMNMNM

Brooke pulls up in front of Mia's house, and after helping her put her bags in the back, they begin driving.

"So, where are you wanting to go?" Brooke asks.

Mia shrugs. "Not sure, really. Somewhere not here."

Brooke glances over at her. "May I ask why?"

Mia bites her lip and stares out the window. "It'll be best for everyone. Especially Nathan."

"I'm sure…"

Mia narrows her eyes, her head swinging around to look at the other girl, and Brooke lets the topic go.

No other words are exchanged, until it comes time for Brooke to give Mia money to buy a train ticket, which the skinnier girl denies, but eventually accepts.

And Brooke can't get the image of Nathan with Mia or Peyton out her mind for weeks.

**May 19, 2002**

They are sitting, side by side, on the beach. The sun is setting, decorating the sky with hues of orange and red. She wants to tell him, so bad. Confess that she is far from the angel he thinks she is, that she is the reason Mia had the resources to leave.

She's not even sure he would believe her. She turns her head towards him, his eyes already fixated on her, and his lips are on hers. It's a familiar, delicious, comfortable feeling, and she melts, her hand cupping his cheek.

They part, and something sparks in his eyes that unsettles her.

"I love you, Brooke Davis. For real." His voice is raw and scratchy, and tears form in her eyes, because she knows he means it. And she feels the same way. And she doesn't want either of those two things to be true.

He looks at her, his heart shining through his eyes, she has no choice but to respond. "I love you, Nathan Scott. For real."

**June 2, 2002**

He feels his chest tighten, his entire body tense, and something has to be released, somehow. It all comes to a boiling point when her lover sits up, and…oh god…its fucking Owen. His fucking brother. Not even his brother, not anymore. The motherfucker had left him, alone, in that hell of a home.

Acting on pure instinct, he completely destroys her vanity. Owen actually has the audacity to stand, pulling the covers, momentarily, away from Brooke's chest.

"I…I can't believe either of you would do this to me!"

"You slept with Taylor!"

He nearly swallows his own tongue at her words. Had she really just shot back with that? He is tempted to ask her 'Taylor who,' because he doesn't really know.

"Are you really trying to compare this to one of my sluts?"

"Brooke, this is Owen! How could you do this? After I…" He closes his eyes, unable to look at her. When he reopens them, he focuses on Owen. "God, Brooke, getting two Scotts in five months, that's gotta be a record."

June 19, 2002.…Neyton sex…which can be read in Chapter 3.

**Oh my! The chapter is over. I am glad you survived it. lol. Please leave me a review. **


	9. Authors Note :)

**I understand the last chapter might not have been a reader's favorite, but I don't know what you expect me to do if you don't leave me any reviews. I pretty much have the next part envisioned in my mind, but before I start it I either need a couple reviews or a new site to post my work on. It's up to you. :) **


	10. Friends? More? Or even that?

**Thanks for the reviews. This chapter takes place in the present, and introduces a new One Tree Hill character. I hope everyone enjoys this part. Remember reviews are what keep the updates coming. So, if you want updates, leave me reviews. Much love! **

**Part 9**

10 AM

After soothing Nathan into the early morning hours, Brooke finally has the opportunity to flop down on her own sofa. But, the luxury is short lived when Clay comes into the room, brows furrowed.

"Ok, Davis, get your ass off the damn couch and to the kitchen! We're gonna get breakfast and start cramming your stupid ass with knowledge."

"Wha…"

"I know, Brooke."

He knows, of course he does. Clay knows everything, eventually. Fuck. This is one of the rare occurrences Brooke is thankful for shitty parents, because if Clay is going to lay down the law, like she knows he is, she can't imagine what parents do.

She clamps her mouth shut. "But, it's Saturday, Clay!"

Despite her words, she stands and begins to follow him. If she doesn't, it'll only make matters worse.

He looks over his shoulder. "Yes, it is, and normally you wouldn't have school today, but seeing as though you've been horsing around since Monday, I think you can afford one weekend."

Brooke huffs. "I resent your quick judgment."

He scoffs. "Brooke, the proof is on your chest," he replies, calmly, pulling a chair out for her.

Speechless, she sits in the offered chair, unsure of whether she has a option. Sara and Rice are already in there, the blond standing at the stove, and Rice in Brooke's old highchair, and clearly unhappy about it.

"My chest?" She mumbles, touching it and cursing when she feels dry skin. Stupid fucking Julian. What had she always told her squad NOT to do before every party? NAME TATTOOS! Well, this is worse. She can't even find another guy named Julian and pretend it's dedicated to him.

Sara gives her a sympathetic look, and Brooke shrinks into herself. The cheerleader feels guilty for adding to the ever building pile of trouble that Clay has to sort through.

"Speaking of Julian, call him. He should join us today."

She recoils, the wooden chair moving violently away from the table. The scraping of the legs against the floor causes Rice to scream in fear, and Sara is tending to her without delay.

"Yeah, uh, no. We had a fight last night."

Clay leans over her, his hand tenderly stroking her naked shoulder. "Brooke, not every guy…"

She tenses. "Is what? Like Nathan? Will choose another girl over me? You weren't there yesterday."

She feels, rather than hears, Clay sigh, his breath tickling the back of her neck. "How about this? You find a babysitter for Rice, I tutor you, and Sara tutors Julian?"

Brooke opens her mouth, but Clay shushes her before she can speak. "I'm not siding with him. But, I know you, Davis. If we can't find a way to help him graduate on time you will blame yourself, even if you're not at fault."

She grunts her agreement, and Clay pats her head in his annoying 'big brother, I'm right, I know what's best, way.'

CBCBCBCBCBCBCBCBCBCBCBCBCB

10:31 AM

Jake watches, with interest, as Peyton mumbles in her sleep. Despite being low and jumbled with many other words, Nathan's name is very audible. As if some kind of beckon, the name pulls her from slumber.

Her green eyes are unfocused from sleep, and she looks confused. Before she can ask any questions, he explains, "I gave you a ride last night, and you ended up staying at my place, nothing happened."

She glares at him. "I wasn't drunk last night."

"I never said you were."

"But, you obviously thought I was." She is sitting up now, her curls a tangled mess. "I would never…"

His eyebrows knit together in confusion, and she hears herself growl.

"I thought you…never mind. If you want to quit all that stuff, it's probably best you broke up with Nathan. You always were too good for him."

Too good? She almost asks him repeat the words, but can't bear hearing them again, because somewhere between hearing and registering, her mind rearranged the words to: 'He always was too good for you.'

The truth of the hallucinated statement wraps tightly around her heart, reverberating, from the inner organ, to the rest of her being. She nods her head, resigned, in agreement. Jake looks down at her, confused, as she forces her heavy body into an upright position.

"Peyton, are you okay?" She looks up at the teenage dad, noticing, just then, the tiny infant cradled to his chest. She forces herself to nod.

"Yeah, just, being a parent, how do you manage?" She is surprised at the pleasant sound of her voice considering, not too long ago, he had insulted Nathan.

He shifts the pink bundle in his arms, giving her sight of a bottle the baby is suckling on. "I had to give up a lot," he says. "There are times I have to skip basketball practice." There's a short pause, but, as if he knows what she is about to ask, he says, "but it's worth it. Jenny is worth it."

She moves on to her knees, in order to get a closer look at the baby. "If she wasn't yours. I mean, if you had a girlfriend who had her instead, what would you do?" Her eyes remain fixated on the small life, but she is waiting impatiently for his answer.

"I, well, I'm not quite sure," he replies, obviously unsure of the situation.

Peyton responds with a simple hum, allowing gravity to pull her down, her butt coming into contact with the bottom of her feet, knees bending as much is allowed.

The young dad looks her up and down. "You don't mind wearing one my shirts?"

She shakes her head, and he smiles.

"Alright. I'll go find you a clean one, and you can decide if you're gonna spend the day with us or not." There's something about his tone, the hopeful, playful lilt to it that makes her stomach churn, pleasantly, which is literally impossible.

JPJPJPJPJPJPJPJPJPJPJPJP

3:07 PM

Julian is sulking, pathetically, not that there is any other way you can sulk, but he is giving 'pathetic' a whole new meaning. The worst part is that he really has no reason to. Brooke has called him, despite the expelled nerd being the one to blame. He just refuses to return the call.

It is currently three in the afternoon, and he has been in the same position, flat on his back, on his bed, for the past two hours. Mouth gave up talking to him an hour ago, and is now using the computer.

Silence nearly driving him to insanity, Mouth swivels the desk chair around and towards his friend. He rolls his eyes, but manages to refrain from speaking his mind.

"Julian, I am sure she is just as miserable as you," '_but, she actually has a reason' _Mouth attempts to assure the pouting teenager, in vain. "Why don't you just call her back?" '_Stupid ass.'_

With a quiet sigh, the lanky teenager turns back to the computer.

"Wow, lookie here, a new picture of Brooke…" Mouth says, looking over his shoulder, frustrated by his unresponsive friend, "with Nathan…

Julian grunts. "And you said she was miserable," he whines.

Again, Mouth rolls his eyes, because it really is the only thing he can do, besides tear his friend's head off, and sadly the latter isn't possible, because Julian has a few pounds on him.

"You're right, she does look pretty content. There's even one of Nathan and her kissing."

Now, that earns a response, a loud one. Julian shoots up in bed, causing the floor to vibrate. "What?"

Mouth sighs. "Finally, you respond to your surroundings. Now, get over your pride and return Brooke's call."

Julian begins to fall back onto his bed, and Mouth jumps to his feet, grasping his friend's shoulder when he is close enough. The taller man is dead weight and does nothing to assist in keeping him upright.

"No, Jabby! Bad Jabby!"

Julian glares at him. "Only Brooke can call me that!"

Mouth nods in agreement. "Okay, then. So, if you ever want to be Jabby again, you need to call her."

"What about…"

"Julian, call her!"

Julian looks up at him so helplessly that Mouth almost laughs. "Julian, the phone is behind you, on the bed. You just need to turn around," the lanky boy instructs, using a format that would have been sarcasm, but sadly, isn't.

Julian twists around, finally supporting his weight, and reaches for the phone. Once the device is in his grasp, he stares at it, dumbly.

"Now you use the buttons with numbers on them…"

"Shut up!" Julian breaks through anything else Mouth might say. "What if the only reason she called was to tell me she hates me?" His voice has lowered significantly, the phone nearly falling from his trembling hands.

Mouth frowns, and closes Julian's fingers around the electronic device. "You won't know until you call."

JMJMJMJMJMJMJMJMJMJMJM

3:07 PM

Peyton watches, glued to the bench, Jake push a small child in a swing. The weather is cool, and she is covered in a t-shirt, which belongs to a cute boy, that advertises a decent band. The shirt, as Brooke would say, matches her red skirt. It's black, so as far as Peyton is concerned, it goes with everything.

There's just one problem, the perfectly adorable little girl, that is smiling at Jake's funny faces, has Nathan's blue eyes.

_Before even pulling up to the house, they seem to have made a silent agreement. She will stay with Jenny while he retrieves Rice. After agreeing to spend the day with him, this isn't what she imagined, even after he said he arranged to baby-sit for a friend. _

_It didn't occur to her when they turned onto Brooke's street, either. But, then he said something along the lines of not remembering Clay ever having a baby, and everything connected in her mind. They were stopping in front of Peyton's best friend's house, where the only Clay Peyton knew was staying, and Jake was right: Clay did not have a baby. _

Jake doesn't seem to notice Rice's resemblance to Nathan, and if he does, doesn't say anything. A small whine captures Peyton's attention, and she looks down at a waking Jenny. Not wanting more close contact than necessary with the older baby, the blond, temporary mom, rummages through a diaper bag in search of a bottle, cursing when she fails to pulls out the wrong size.

Upon closer inspection, she realizes she has been digging through Rice's bag. Throwing the bottle back into the bag, she kicks the bag out of her way, wincing when Jenny's small whine ups in volume to a quiet cry. Searching the ground, around her feet, she can't locate the other bag.

She's beginning to panic, not because of Jenny's obvious distress, but the potential of her having to hold Rice. In her dread, she threads her fingers into her messy bun, letting out an angry grumble when she spots the bag on the bench beside her.

The bottle is easy to find, thankfully, and soon Jenny is nestled in her arms. The little girl has blue eyes, lighter than Rice's. And Peyton wonders how things would have played out if Mia would have stayed. Would Nathan be with the mother of his child, his childhood best friend, or her, Peyton Sawyer, the other girl?

She focuses her attention solely on the little girl in her arms, watching as her eyes fight the battle of sleep. Unwinding one arm from around the infant, Peyton trails her fingertips over the soft skin of the baby's forehead.

Jenny's mouth relaxes when slumber finally wins, and Peyton pulls the bottle away, setting it on the bench beside her. The sound of laughter makes her look up; Jake is approaching, a laughing Rice a victim under his wiggling fingers. The poor girl is trapped helplessly in his arms. And suddenly Rice isn't just Mia's, she's Nathan's daughter. And the things Nathan did before, after, even during their relationship doesn't matter.

Even though her ex-boyfriend isn't here, she falls more in love with him, because he is the reason the laughing little girl exists. Rice is apart of Nathan, and she is perfect. Standing, she meets Jake, and they switch girls.

Rice looks at her, wide-eyed, as if she knows that not twenty-four hours ago, Peyton had wished her existence away. Then, the teenage girl smiles, and the baby returns it, grabbing hold of an escaped curl. The toddler releases it, her eyes wide, this time with amazement, as it bounces back in place. She does it again, and despite the ache it brings her scalp, Peyton allows her.

"You're cute, you know that?" Peyton asks her, but Rice ignores her, transfixed with Peyton's hair, which is her new favorite toy. "You're probably hungry, cutie."

"Yeah, she probably is," Jake pipes in.

Peyton looks down at the ground. "Yeah, they packed a bottle, but it isn't a fancy one like Jenny's, that stays cold. And isn't she too old for formula?"

Jake nods. "Yeah, we can get a late lunch or something. She's at the age where she can eat about anything, though she probably should have a bit of formula after we eat."

Peyton gapes at him. "You don't know?"

"Well, Jenny is barely two months, and I'm learning as I go along. But, I know the basics, such as Rice should have a combination of solids and formula in her diet. I just don't know when, exactly."

"But, she has had formula today, more than once," Peyton points out.

Jake cocks his head to the side. "So maybe we should just go with pasta at Karen's?"

"She can eat pasta?" Peyton questions, shocked.

Jake responds with a simple nod, and starts toward the car. "She can also walk, with assistance."

Peyton looks at the small girl in her arms, amazed. "You're pretty amazing, aren't ya?" She whispers. She receives an answer in the form of nonsense babbles. "I'm glad you agree, so enthusiastically. This town is always in need of another cocky Scott."

"Peyton?"

Peyton snaps her head up, apparently she became caught up in the baby girl, who wasn't as much of a baby as she originally thought. That saddens her, because that means Nathan missed out on more than she imagined.

"Come on, let's go fill up this tummy," Peyton says, grabbing at the little girl's small stomach, and begins to follow Jake. Innocent laughter fills the blonde's ears.

JPJPJPJPJPJPJPJPJPJPJPJPJPJPJP

5:32 PM

The light switches on, illuminating the room and intensifying Nathan's headache.

"Fuck off, Brooke!"

A growl leaves Owen's lips in response to the degrading greeting that was meant for Brooke. ""You fuck off, Nathan! But, first get the hell out bed and be a damn father!"

Nathan's entire body tenses, visibly, his arms tightening around the pillow. "She didn't want me to be the dad. She knew I'd fuck up," he mumbles.

Owen rubs his forehead, feeling the wrinkles from the stress of the situation. "What she or you want or wanted doesn't mean shit now, because that little girl exists, she don't got her mom anymore. All she has is your sorry ass, so don't let her down."

"All I'll do is ruin her life and make it harder," Nathan whines, and it's not pathetic, because the pain in his voice is excruciatingly perceptible. "And why do care anyway, _big_ brother?"

Owen softens, because in that one question, a million are asked. _"Why did you move out?" Why did you leave me alone?" "Why did you break my heart?" "Why did you sleep with Brooke, how could you sleep with Brooke?" "Did you love Brooke?" _

"I'm your brother, Nathan, and that never changed. I messed up, a lot. But, I'm here, and I'm gonna help you get through this. It's you and me, bud, against the insanity of the world."

Nathan lifts his head from his pillow, supporting his weight on his elbows, and the brothers' eyes connect. The younger of the two men nods, and for that moment, everything is okay. But, there are still many things that need to be discussed and forgiven. For now, though, Owen is thankful for a peaceful, private moment with his brother.

NONONONONONONONONONO

7:14 PM

After having everything fall into place: Jake babysitting Rice, Clay granting her the time to spice herself up, Julian didn't return Brooke's call, until an hour-an-half ago. Of course, the brunette is no longer 'dressed to impress.' Her hair is a tangled mop trapped in a hair tie, and she is wearing grey sweatpants paired with a lavender hoodie.

Rachel, being her typical self, is examining their surrounding, which happens to be the place Julian took Brooke mudding. Her red hair is falling down her back in waves, perfect smokey eye makeup. She is adorned in tiny booty shorts and a black tank-top that reveals a sliver of her mid-drift. How she isn't cold, Brooke doesn't know.

"Slut, why must we meet here?" Rachel questions, scrunching up her lips.

Brooke rolls her eyes, unable to explain the significance of the location.

"And who is this Jabby guy that has you so horny and whipped?" Rachel continues to nag. "He better be hot."

"You've met him before, Rach. You just don't remember."

The bright haired girl groans. "Stop with the 'Rachs' and 'Rachels!' Please! What happened to Brooke? My Brooke!"

Brooke shrugs, tracing patterns in the wanna-be-sand. "She got her heartbroken."

The flowery smell of Rachel's hair tickles Brooke's nose, when the current cheer-captain bends down and offers the former one her hand.

"Come on, Brooke, let's go. It's been a while, and he hasn't showed. I don't think he's gonna sweetie."

Brooke nods, and takes the offered hand. "Yeah."

RBRBRBRBRBRBRBRBRB

Same time

Julian shoves his hands in his pockets. "Millie, uh, not that I'm not thrilled to see you, but weren't you suppose to arrive tomorrow?"

She pauses in unpacking and turns towards him. "Do you not want me here?"

Mouth shakes his head, quickly. "No! I mean, of course we do, right Julian?" Julian nods. "But, it's just, we kinda had plans…"

Her face falls. "Oh, well you can go. I…I don't want to…"

"No, it's fine. I'll just reschedule."

Mouth glares at Julian. Reschedule? That is something you do with doctors. Not beautiful girls, but the lanky boy can't come out and say that, not in front of Millie.

JMJMJMJMJMJMJMJM

9:23 PM

Clay can't take his eyes away from his friend, as she messes with the old record player. It's meant to be decoration, but the way her fingers dance across it, he expects her touch to inspire music from the old player. Her white, very conservative, nightgown is flowing around her knees, moving with an imaginary breeze.

He trails his eyes up to her face, and finds it tinted pink with a blush. He smiles, and holds out his hand. She looks at it for a moment, before moving close enough to take it. He tugs her down beside him on the sofa, and she lets out a breath, sinking into the cushions.

"Do you think it's been used lately?" She questions, eyes not having left the musical device.

He shrugs. "I'm not sure." He doubts it, but doesn't want to tell her, because it would break her heart.

She sighs, again, this time eyes trained on him. "Rice is a pretty little girl."

He is surprised at the abrupt change in topic, and a bit leery in continuing it. "She is."

There's a few seconds of silence. "Our flight is tomorrow, but now, with everything that has happened, I'm assuming you're not going back."

He nods. "Nate needs me right now, and I'm going to be there. And, like you said, Rice is a pretty little girl, with a personality to match."

She smiles, and as always it takes his breath away. "She really is."

She stands, stretching her arms above her head. "I should get to bed. My flight is early: eight AM comes quickly."

She starts towards the stairs, but he stops her, "Sara," he wants to tell her how special she is, how beautiful and angelic she looks with every move she makes, instead, he says "goodnight."

**Don't forget to leave me a review, please and thank you. :) Have a good one. **


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